Efrosyni
by Elenimou
Summary: Tank finds his female counter part. Ranger is gone again, maybe permanently. Stephanie had decided to join Joe in a new life in another city...except for one small problem. This story comes from a story thread here on FF/JE. I've just picked up the thread ball and continue to unwind. Thank you for the idea, you guys are awesome.
1. Chapter 1

Ranger is gone again, Stephanie plans to move with Joe elsewhere for a new start except a problem creeps up….Tanks meets his significant other.

I admit, the original premise of Joe moving to another city and the dates came from a FF writer here. I've just taken the idea and run with it.

 **reposting chapter 1 with a few corrections...sorry**

 **Chapter One: The Explosion**

The dark January sky threatened snow. Being close to the ocean the snow could be heavy and wet if the storm was blowing in from the east or lighter, drier if from the west. Personally I wanted neither. Snow doesn't usually bother me, but being awake for 48, no 49 hours has left me grumpy. Thankfully the morning traffic leaving Ft. Dix wasn't anything like the in- bound traffic. I had no humor towards idiot drivers weaving recklessly in and out of traffic to gain 3 car positions in the queue at the front gate.

I chose to live off base. The time spent commuting helped me decompress. I was almost human again by the time I arrived at my apartment. At 0825 the apartment parking lost was nearly empty. I left the closer parking slots for the elderly tenants. With nothing to carry, no groceries or dry cleaning, my only exertion was getting my tired self-up the steps.

The two flights of stairs to my apartment floor passed under my feet without notice. All I wanted was a shower and sleep, hopefully in that order. As I neared my apartment, the odor of chemicals became strong. Was someone cooking meth in their apartment? I turned to retreat when an explosion blew debris and flames into the hall and slamming me into the wall. Instantly I was covered in wall board and wood splinters.

I don't know how long I lay in the hall. I had to move, somehow. As I crawled towards what was left of the exit door, I saw Mrs. Grey's apartment. The 80+ year old was probably in her apartment, she rarely left. On my back, on the third kick the door flew open. The wall separating her unit from the exploded unit was rubble. Smoke and flames were already in her apartment advancing rapidly towards the bedroom. I quick crawled past the kitchen to the living room and was ready to turn into bedroom when a second explosion threw me against the bedroom closet wall. "Damn, this is getting old," I cursed.

Quickly I checked the bedroom, no Mrs. Grey but I did find a kitten hissing and scratching in panic under the bed. Taking a pillow case I crammed the frightened fur ball into the case and crawled to the closet where fire victims often hide. There I found another kitten. Mrs. Grey was in the bathroom shower, naked and unconscious. Lifting her small body onto my shoulder, I winced in pain. We needed to get outside. I half crawled half duck walked out the apartment door as flames licked the walls nearby. The hall was filled with smoke, but fortunately Mrs. Grey was the first apartment inside the door and I only had to turn and exit onto the landing and the stairs beyond.

A fireman coming up the steps took Mrs. Grey from my shoulder; another grabbed me and the pillow case in my hand and led me outside. I fell to the ground gasping for air, my lungs clogged with smoke, my chest screaming in pain with each cough. I felt a mask on my face, "Remasss ug brees," I heard from the EMT. He spoke funny.

I stood with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders and watched the action around me. The apartment fire was moving from unit to unit. Water streamed up from the pumpers mixing with the ash or snow that fell from the sky. The pillowcase kittens were being treated with oxygen. Mrs. Grey was being loaded into a waiting ambulance. An EMT came over to me, "Ma'am, we've called for another ambulance for you," said an EMT. At least his speech had cleared up, more likely my hearing.

"No, after I get the cats to the vet I'll go myself," I assured them.

He shook his head, "We can't force you ma'am, please don't delay."

"Are you OK," gasped the receptionist as I limped into the vet clinic. My left shoulder hurt so I kept it in my hand in my pocket, trying to keep the arm stabilized.

"I'll tend myself after the kittens," I mumbled. I wondered just how bad I looked.

The kittens were rushed back to treatment and I found a chair in the waiting room corner where hopefully my smoke stench and appearance would be less offensive. Wincing I sat down carefully, removing my hand from the pocket and carefully cradling my arm in my lap. "Bet my clavicle is broken," I muttered quietly to myself.

Everything on my left slide hurt no doubt from flying into walls...twice. I shut my eyes and tried to breathe evenly; in through the nose, out slowly through the mouth. If I varied even a little I broke into a painful coughing fit.

A cold water bottle was placed into my hands. I opened my eyes. The offeror was a very tall, broad shouldered dark skinned man dressed in black, "Drink, you looked ...barbecued," he said with his deep bass voice. I was going to refuse, but the cold bottle was so welcome in my hands, I accepted it. "Thank you, sir" I croaked before being wracked with painful coughing.

He sat next to me, "Fire?" He asked. The question seemed obvious. Didn't he just say I looked barbecued?

The cold water trickled down my throat setting off more painful coughing. I could only shake my head, yes. Finally I was able to croak, "Apartment building exploded."

"The one on Cutler?"

I shook my head affirmative.

"Have you been seen by a medic?" He asked as he picked a piece of wall board from my shoulder.

Curious choice of words I thought. Medic is more often a military term. I looked over at him. He was dressed all in black, not BDUs but black jacket, black polo underneath and black cargo pants. He wore softer boots. He looked very fit. He might have been military, off duty.

"They wanted to take me to St. Francis. I'll get myself to Ft. Dix after I make arrangements for the kittens."

I shut my eyes and tried to push past the pain, not paying attention to the man speaking on his phone to "Bobby."

The vet tech called for Sher-somebody and the big man excused himself and picked up his cat carrier and went with the tech. I don't know when he returned but when opened my eyes again he was sitting next to me again, "How are you doing?"

All I could do was nod and even that was getting painful. I had a major headache and my neck burned. For the first time I noticed my ACU, my uniform, was scorched and torn. Barbecued. Maybe I should have taken the ambulance offer.

The front door opened and a 6 foot tall man entered, dressed all in black like the big man sitting next to me, but carrying a black back pack. He brushed ash from his hair. Maybe it was snow.

The receptionist welcomed him. He nodded and walked towards the large man sitting next to me. "I'm Bobby Brown, I'm a medic. You've had an interesting morning, Major."

At first I ignored him. The big man was also a Major? I suddenly felt a hand on my left wrist and tried to jerk back my arm, but that brought an explosion of pain and my eyes flew open. I gasped. The medic was the one holding my wrist.

"Excuse me?" I uttered.

"What happened?" He asked gently.

My throat was still dry, but I managed to croak out, "Apartment building explosions; sent me flying into a wall, twice, regular Peter Pan."

"Looks like you got your eyebrows blown off too," he said softly. "Where do you hurt?"

Every single spot I wanted to say but pulled my mind back under control, "Left side; shoulder, ribs, and hip."

"How about your face and hands?"

I looked at my hands, I didn't realize they were burned and then reached for my face with my right arm, but the medic stopped me. I nodded, "Those too. I must be a mess."

The veterinarian stepped out of the hall door. She was short, maybe 5'2", slender with greying blond hair. She stared at me, "Are you alright?"

"I've had better days," I responded. How bad did I look?

"I'm Doctor Spencer. I'm sorry to say your grey kitten didn't make it. The black one is holding on."

"Not mine," I whispered. "Neighbor's."

"How do we contact the owner?"

"St. Francis, Mrs. Grey." Words were getting harder to get out.

"We need to keep the black kitten under oxygen for at least 24 hours."

"I've left a deposit."

"We appreciate it. I'm sorry about the grey kitten. Did she have a name?"

"Delilah, Sampson," I whispered not out of respect, but because I was running out of air.

During the exchange the medic fastened a sling for my left arm, "You don't want that wiggling around."

The big man and the medic helped me to my feet. The medic said, "Now we need to get you to the hospital."

"Ft. Dix."

"That's 20 minutes away; you really should be seen sooner.

"Is St. Francis that much closer? I'm going to Dix even if I have to drive myself."

"It's snowing, the roads are slippery," protested the tall dark man.

"Ft. Dix."

The two exchanged looks, "Where is your car?"

"The black Cherokee."

"Perfect. Tank will drive; I'll be with you in back."

Who is driving the tank? I wondered.

The medic called somebody and asked them get their vehicles. Maybe they drove rentals.

As the big man lead me to my Cherokee, the medic was on the phone talking to a marshal. Were we getting police escort?

Apparently the snow was coming down heavily because the drive to Ft. Dix was unrecognizable. After a while all the dips in the road became excruciating. I began to gasp for air.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 Hospital**

In the St. Francis emergency area waiting room, Bobby turned to Tank, "Do you often pick up women in the vet clinic?"

"I've seen battle casualties looking better than she did. I rarely see you pull out the oxygen bottle. How is she, Bobby?"

"It was close," Bobby said shaking his head. "Initially she wasn't too bad; I thought we could risk bringing her ourselves. Dix doesn't have the services she needs, they would have transferred her here."

Time passed, Tank talked to the Rangeman office on his phone while pacing the waiting room floor. Bobby filled out papers. The double doors opened and a doctor came out and went to Bobby. "Bobby, it was good you called me, we were ready for her. I concur with your decision, here was better. We still may have to transfer her up to University Hospital in Newark. The problem is the weather. Med-evac won't fly, the roads are getting worse and there's a big accident up on 95."

Bobby turned to Tank, "Tank this is Dr. Steve Marshall and the guy that constantly beats my ass in hand ball." Tank nodded and shook hands.

"Steve, she was adamant about going to Dix and would have driven herself if necessary."

"She would not have made it," the doctor said.

"No," Bobby replied simply. "That became apparent."

The doctor motioned towards the double doors leading to the treatment bays, "Let's go back and talk." Bobby and Tank were shown to a small conference area where Dr. Marshall picked up a metal chart file and said, "I saw you were about to relieve the pneumothorax when we opened the Jeep's door."

"I'm glad I looked up and saw the emergency room doors. Inserting the needle in a moving vehicle with the patient sitting upright would have been difficult."

"Do you know what happened to her?" The doctor asked.

Tank answered, "Apartment complex on Cutler exploded. She was thrown against walls, twice in two different explosions."

"We had an elderly lady come in earlier from that complex in very serious condition. The EMT said a female soldier carried the woman and her kittens to safety. I assume Major Pappas is the officer."

Opening a metal file Dr. Marshall began, "She wasn't conscious when we reached the bay. She is still out. CT Scan will determine degree of head injury. In addition to the pneumothorax there's smoke inhalation, of course. Ribs 2 and 3 are fractured; number four has hair line fracture. There is no intrusion into the pleura or lung. Left clavicle and scapula are fractured, anterior dislocation and fractured proximal humerus. Duverney fracture left iliac, no arterial complication. Basically her left side got wiped out slamming into the walls. First and second degree burns on right side of her face, neck and hands."

Bobby calmly asked, "Internal injuries?"

"We are still checking. So far none are apparent at this time beyond the pneumothorax we are also watching for pulmonary edema. Otherwise, diaphragm intact, spleen absent; It's not the first time she's been knocked about."

"Can you deal with all the injuries?"

"We are fortunate Dr. Johansen, an orthopedic surgeon from University in Newark is here for a few days. He is still evaluating her along with Doug Murphy. Of course the CT Scan will determine what is next.

"She will be alright?" Tank asked

"The shoulder will need surgery. If she regains consciousness soon and the CT Scan comes back clean, pulmonary radiograph is clear, and nothing else crops up, we'll jump on the shoulder. Anything more, she's heading to Newark, if possible."

"How long will she be hospitalized?" Tank asked.

"Maybe a week, then we'll evaluate; rehab or home."

"Her apartment building is gone, she has no home." Tank responded.

"Then it will be a rehab facility. We don't need to worry about that today; she'll be here for a while."

Quickly Tank spoke up, "When she is released she can stay with me."

Bobby raised both eyebrows, "Tank, you don't even know her."

"I have extra bedrooms, I'll hire a nurse and pay Stephanie to help out," Tank offered. "Stephanie always needs extra money."

Bobby frowned; he had never seen Tank act this way about a woman. He cautioned, "All of this depends on her doctor's opinions and her own desires. Let's go day by day."

Turning back toward Dr. Marshall Bobby asked, "Steve, how long will she be off duty? Dix will need to be notified."

"Of course depending on what else we find, but the ribs alone should keep her sidelined for six weeks at least, the shoulder more depending on her job; however, this is the Ft. Dix Bitch we are talking about."

The two Rangeman men looked at the doctor, "The what? You know her?"

"Who do you think beats me at handball? I play several times a week at Dix. She came up from Ft. Bragg several months ago. I don't know her job, this was the first time I've seen her in uniform. Usually she's in gym attire. When she's not dominating the hand ball courts, humiliating hand to hand instructors, working over kick boxers, she teaches martial arts to kids and now apparently saves kittens."

Bobby chuckled, "Sounds like a female version of you, Tank." Tank smiled. He knew there was a reason he was drawn to her.

Bobby continued, "Steve, assuming her and her medical staff agrees to go with Tank, I can check on her twice a day. When she's ready for rehab, I'll work with her at Rangeman, if it can be cleared with command."

The doctor laughed, "Lots of _Ifs_ there Bobby, we'll see."

* * *

I knew I was in the hospital, puffing oxygen and being monitored for everything except toenail growth. I really wasn't feeling much pain unless I tried to talk or swallow, apparently the big time pain drugs hadn't discovered that area. I wanted to sleep for about a week until things settled down.

Once again my injuries seem to be on my left side, just as they were so many years ago, Then I thought my life and dreams were over. No family until Colonel Halvers, a man I hardly knew, became my savior. Now I take care of myself.

There was a brief knock on the door and three men walked in.

"Three hot men," I croaked. Somewhere in my brain I knew that was totally inappropriate but I couldn't control myself. It must be the pain meds. The doctor and medic ignored the rude comment, but the biggest guy looked embarrassed.

"Hello Major, looks like tomorrow's handball match is cancelled," said the man with the white jacket. He looked familiar, "Later," I croaked.

"How are you feeling Major?" The man next to Mr. White Coat asked.

He looked familiar too, was he at the vet's office? Didn't he have white hair before? I pondered his question. How was I going to express myself in as few words as possible? "Pissed off," I all but whispered.

That seemed to bring a few tight smiles. I didn't think it was funny. I was serious, but I wasn't in the mood for chewing ass, even if I could get the words out. Talking was hurting not only my throat, it was killing my head. I was also nauseous and the last thing I wanted was to vomit.

"Nauseous."

Dr. White Coat looked a little surprised. "We'll get you something for that right away."

"I need to sleep," I whined petulantly. I'm never petulant, what is wrong with me? "How will I stay awake?"

"I'm here to sit with you ma'am," the big guy said softly. "The doctors want you awake as much as possible in the next 24 hours to monitor the concussion."

The two doctors made cursory exams; they spoke quietly to the big man and left. The big man came and sat down next to me.

"OK handsome..." I cringed when I heard myself. "Sorry, it's these pain meds."

He shook his head in understanding, "That's alright. They make me loopy too."

"You called me "barbecued."

"Yes ma'am."

"Kansas City or Memphis?" Geez, where did that come from? What meds am I on? Shouldn't there be some security person here guarding my mouth?

His lovely golden brown eyes narrowed a bit and if he was trying to read my mind and understand my question. Lovely golden brown eyes? Since when have I noticed eye color?

"Sir, what is your name?" There, I thought, that was more controlled.

"Tank"

"Tank?"

"Yes ma'am."

"…parents First Armor?"

"No ma'am". He sighed. Apparently he'd been asked that question before. "My name is Pierre Sherman. My family name was Chermond but my grandfather Americanized it to Sherman. I've never liked Pierre so when I started growing the kids started calling me Tank. I liked it better than Pierre. "

"Tank Sherman?" I asked and would have raised an eyebrow, if I still had one.

"No ma'am, just Tank."

I nodded.

"Ma'am, would you prefer I call you...Major?"

"… you in service?" I really wished there was a Teflon spray for throats.

"Not any longer ma'am. My contract expired some time back, I did not renew."

"IRR?" Army's Individual Ready Service where one can be called back as needed.

"No, I was under contract to the Army and certain government agencies," he answered.

Certain agencies! I know what he's talking about. He was a government contractor, perhaps even special assignment or mercenary; all very hush hush. Wonder if I've known any of his missions. Good thing I don't have those eyebrows, in my drugged state I might let on I knew about them.

"Mr. Abrams, I'm Efrosyni."

"Excuse me, ma'am, it is Sherman, not Abrams."

"Excuse me. I'm...Fro-See-nee." I paused to breathe, "Or Major."

He tried it out, "Fro-see-nee."

"Tank, the medic's name?"

It's Bobby Brown. Actually it is Dr. Bobby Brown but he shuns the doctor title. He prefers that title medic. He takes care of us."

"Us?"

"Company we work for. Bobby is our private medic."

"Nice company." What type of company employs mercenaries, I wondered.

The doctors wanted me awake for as long as possible as they monitored the head concussion. The man, I had forgotten his name, sat with me and we talked. Dr. No Hans came and went, he was tall and blonde, I thought with his name he'd be Chinese. Another doctor came, Dr. Dog. He said he saw me in the emergency room. I wondered what breed he was. The big man did most of the talking as I had trouble even breathing, but I nodded and contributed short conversations. I have no idea what we talked about and that was troubling. I had stuff somewhere in my head that could not be discussed.

"Sir," I said as I couldn't remember his name. 'What is your clearance?"

He looked at me with concern, "Why?"

"I might say things I shouldn't." I explained.

"Ma'am, I was a Special Forces ranger and when under contract had fairly high clearance. Now I'm part owner of a security company here. I know how to keep my mouth shut."

I nodded again because it just hurt to talk.

He was a big guy, several inches taller than me which is unusual since I am a giant. In the back of my mind I was hearing the song "Big John."

He talked softly but had a thunderous laugh which he used very little at first. He was trying to keep me awake and would gently touch my right arm, not my hand because of the burns, if I started to fade. I'm not used to people touching me except when working on hand to hand, kick boxing or various martial arts. It's one of my phobias. Each time he touched me I'd instantly come awake. I guess phobias have a good side too.

The sun set and rose again when the doctor Wyatt Earp, or whatever his name is and Dr. Mercenary, walked back in, "OK, you two, bed time."

The big guy, Big John, blanched which is difficult for a darker skinned man. I don't know if he felt it, but yeah, I wouldn't mind curling up next to him. He looks warm and cuddly. Whoa, the pain meds really have me loopy.

"I'll take Tank home," Dr. Mercenary said.

Why was Dr. Mercenary taking a tank home? The mercenary doctor pulled out his phone, "Steph, I need help with a woman." The big man barked a laugh.

"No, no Steph, not that kind of help," he said laughing. "Actually it is Tank who needs help."

I tried to grab the big man's hand, but missed. He caught the motion and leaned over, "Frank, names again; Dr. No Hans, Wyatt Earp, and Buster Brown?"

"Drs. Johansen, Steve Marshall and Bobby Brown," He replied with had a strained look on his face.

"I know you aren't Abrams..."

"Sherman, ma'am, Tank Sherman."

Where did John go, I wondered.

My little memory problem netted me an extra trip through the CT Scan machine and games to play with Frank for the next few days. It was Trivial Pursuit: What's my name, who is the President, what base are you currently assigned? I wasn't very good initially. I asked my doctor when we'd be playing handball again, but then called him Dr. Marshal Dillon. He thought I was being cute, I wasn't. I honestly couldn't remember his name.

Somewhere in the game playing I went through the repair shop, got my shoulder screwed and wired and was placed in a strange device that kept my arm perfectly still. I felt like a bird with a partially extended but broken wing. Surely there's a song about this.

The best part was Sherman Tank came to visit every evening. What a silly name. Who in the world would name their child Sherman Tank? I wanted to ask if his parents served in First Armor. As he left one evening he said, "I have an answer to your earlier question...Memphis." I had no idea what he was talking about.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 Off to Tank's House**

Everything is still tame here. Tank's house guest is slowly recovering.

* * *

My ACUs were barbecued and all other clothing lay as ash in the apartment fire. My entire wardrobe consisted of the daily thin hospital coverings.

"You brought me a gift?" I said incredulously to the big man whose name keeps slipping my mind.

"Just something to make you more comfortable. You are constantly pulling the sheets up to cover your shoulders. Either you are shy or cold."

"I am cold," but the big man is correct on the second count, I'm not used to flashing skin. His name comes and goes, but he is vigilant in his daily visits.

Inside the sack were a lovely silk nightgown, matching robe, and cashmere pashmina. The nightgown straps were several inches wide and attached to the high cut bodice with special hooks. My injured arm could remain stationary as I dressed. The robe will give me more modesty when I'm able to move around more. The pashmina wrapped around my shoulders and arms with plenty of material to keep me warm and modest while sitting up in bed. They were exquisite, caramel color that blended nicely with my skin. These were far more feminine that anything I'd buy for myself. I was overwhelmed.

I looked up at him, "These are far too nice for me."

"You like them?" I think he was surprised. Didn't he buy them?

"I love them. I…." I didn't have words. I swallowed and said, "Thank you." I would have used his name but right now I was stuck between Frank and Tank.

He smiled, "I admit, I had Ella pick them out. I explained your problem and this was her solution, for now."

"Is Ella your wife?" I asked hoping he'd say no.

"I'm not married. Ella is the housekeeper at Rangeman."

"She has excellent tastes. Thank you for your thoughtfulness," as I tried to wrap the pashmina across me. The big guy stood and draped it across me.

"This will work nicely, I'm already warmer." It never occurred to me the reason I was warmer was not the cashmere pashmina but the man who brought it.

I had absolutely no idea what was happening to me. Maybe the head concussion knocked something loose. I never get close to people; I can count on one hand with four fingers folded down the number of my friends.

"Sir," I asked, "Why do you keep coming to see me?"

"You don't want me to come?" He looked confused and maybe hurt.

"You didn't answer my question." I said.

"Because I want to."

How do I respond to that? Men don't seek out my company, most run the other way. Do I want him to stop coming? No.

"Well then sir, far be it from me to interfere with your wants. I in turn look forward to your visits and hope you continue."

He smiled and I did too. "Sir, do you work here at Dix base hospital?"

His face instantly turned to stone and his eyes squinted just a bit. "Frosyni, you are not at the base hospital, you are at St. Francis in Trenton and have been for over a week."

I lowered my head and put my right hand on my forehead. Was I now missing days? "Yes, St. Francis and you don't work here, you work for Rangeman."

"That's better," he sighed.

I was much more careful with my words least I show my memory still wasn't back to normal. After 10 days in the hospital, Army, and I agreed to be released into the big man's care if a nurse was present and the medic, Robbie Brown, came to visit every day. Robbie didn't sound quite right, maybe it was Bobbie.

Check out day came and the weather was again cold and snowy. My lovely silk gown and robe would not be enough to keep me warm. Instead I wore sweat pants with Rangeman screen printed down the side, a supportive camisole, and a fleece poncho with a hood. A wool blanket provided extra warmth. For shoes, I had a brand new pair of sheepskin boots that actually fit.

I smiled at the big man, "Are these yours?"

"They are men's, but no, my feet are even bigger. I had a nurse measure your foot while you were asleep."

"Mr. Abrams, you are resourceful," I smiled.

He looked a little hurt, "Sherman, ma'am."

"Sorry, yet again," I said. "I will try harder and I would appreciate it if you'd call me Frosyni," I said demurely. Demurely, I have never done demurely, no matter how much my mother tried teach me how to be a lady, I was a tomboy through and through. Where are my camos and brown underwear?"

He raised an eyebrow, "I already do call you Frosyni."

Oh drat, I did it again. Diversion: "Did your clothes lady come up with these pants?"

He shook his head yes, "If it had been left up to me I would have rolled you up in the blanket." He suddenly gasped and started to blush.

A medical assistant standing to one side listening to the conversation gave me a wink.

"That might have been fun, Tank."

His face broke into another award winning smile, "Bingo, you got my name right! Now, what's the last name?"

"Don't push it mister," I mumbled.

When the nurse rolled me out of the hospital the vehicle in front of me didn't look familiar. "I believe I drive something different." I couldn't remember what so I was faking it.

'We have your Jeep in our secure parking," Tank answered.

I drove a Jeep. Wonder what type? Also present were three men; the medic whose name was on the tip of my tongue and Hal and Cal. They didn't look like twins. Hal and Cal lifted me into the vehicle; they both looked like my size would be no problem. The medic supervised while Tank stored the wheelchair. I remembered the doctor's name as he slipped inside the SUV with me, Bobby.

The medic looked at me, "Are you OK major?"

"Excited to be moving on, Bobby. Please call me Frosyni."

I saw a smile, I think I got everything right.

Tank's large single story contemporary house sat on several acres of lawn and woods; surrounded by high walls and a security gate. He did say he owned a security company. No horses or other animals were apparent; this was a home for people seeking privacy. I watched for steps, though confined to this chair for just a few hours I was already conscious of steps and thresholds.

The big twins, I forgot their names, but one had a tattoo on his forehead, lifted me down and into the wheel chair. "Gentlemen, thank you." One nodded, "Our pleasure major."

Three women were waiting for us inside the front door. The Latino woman introduced herself as Ella. "Thank you for the clothes, especially the silks." I blushed.

The second was a 30 something woman with a riot of brown curly hair down to her shoulders. "My name is Stephanie." Yes, I remembered a "Steph" from the phone conversation.

The third was wearing scrubs. "I'm Charlotte Mendosa, your nurse."

She was mid 30's, 5'10 and appeared to me in good condition.

"I'm glad they sent someone of size. I'm no midget."

She smiled, "No ma'am, Mr. Sherman said you were…imposing."

I smiled. "In more ways than size." Sherman, yeah that sounded right. Frank or Tank Sherman.

I turned to Frank, "Imposing Mr. Sherman?"

He had a small smile, but the medic laughed.

"Major," the clothing lady began, "Now that I see you I can find clothes better suited to your size and mobility. Tank said you were tall but I didn't know how tall."

Tank Sherman? That might be right.

"I'm 6'2. As for clothing, I wear a lot of men's clothes, good reason to join the Army," I smiled at my own joke. When I need female attire I shop on the web at stores such as _Long Tall Sally's_."

Stephanie looked at me and then at Ella. "Whose pants is she wearing?"

"Santos'" Ella replied quietly.

Stephanie smiled, "Priceless. If he finds out he'll want to meet the woman that got into his pants."

I was confused. Why would Santa have such slender pants and why would he want to meet the woman in them. It sounded naughty and Santa is never naughty.

I was suddenly dizzy, tired and my head began to hurt. My right hand when up to my temple and I pushed as if to push away the pain.

"Major...? The medic said while he walked towards me. "Do you need to lay down?"

"No, I would prefer not to be stuck in another room. Is there someplace I can land and see more than four walls? However, may I also have a plastic bag?"

His eyebrows went up.

"Nausea comes and goes; I'd like to have a receptacle in case I lose it."

After making sure I was settled on an oversized recliner that provided a view of a spacious back yard, large blanket protecting me and probably the recliner, and a plastic kitchen bag resting in my lap, Dr. Dobi carefully went over medication instructions with the nurse. I looked at him and thought of the elf in Harry Potter. He wasn't an elf. He was about 6 feet tall. Didn't he have white hair before? I shut my eyes and willed the pain and nausea away.

Ellen/Helen went through the big guy's kitchen and pantry. What did she call the big guy? Curly brown hair lady came around back and gently laid her hand on my head. "Major, eventually we'll have to figure out a way to wash your hair, but right now you have a lot of burned hair. I'll pull back what I can to keep it off your neck and ear, but you might end up wearing short hair for a while."

I moaned thinking back to advanced combat training where I had to have my hair nearly shorn off.

"Major..."

Apparently I had nodded off for a few minutes. "Please call me Frosty…no Frosyni." I must have been thinking about the medic with white hair.

"What a curious name, what is it?"

"It's Greek. My father was Sotirios Pappas, Sam Pappas."

The big man's, eye brows shot upward, "THE Sam Pappas?"

I looked at him, "Sam Pappas is a fairly common name. What do you mean THE Sam Pappas?"

He hesitated, "I was referring to the Congressional Medal of Honor Sam Pappas."

"Then you are correct. Did you know him?" Tank or Hank, I couldn't keep it straight.

"No ma'am. He was before my time but our company commander knew him and talked about him often. He was to be our inspiration."

No, the big man was about my age and my father died when I was 12. It was so long ago I'm surprised when people say they actually knew him, not just knew the name.

"He was truly my inspiration." I looked off a moment trying to picture his face. Continuing I said, "After he died it was just my mother and me. She died in an accident when I was 17. No other relatives. Well, my mother once mentioned distant cousins in pajamas."

"Pajamas?" Stephane asked. "Do you mean Panama?"

Ooops, I did it again.

"You have no family?" She asked softly.

"The Army is my family."

The two men, the medic and…Tank….chuckled. I wasn't being humorous intentionally; all I've ever known is the Army. I wanted to chew ass, but I just didn't have the strength.

The older lady stepped forward, "Steph we need to let the major rest while we get her clothes. We'll be back in a few hours. We'll bring lunch."

"Are we having a party?" I asked. I didn't hear lunch, I heard punch. "Please no pissapple, it will burn my throat."

The four of them looked at me.

Again? "What did I say?" I sighed.

"Pissapple," Stephanie giggled.

I shut my eyes and tried to say pineapple to myself. I couldn't. "Tropical fruit," I replied. I knew I was tired, maybe that's why I got the words mixed up.

The medic frowned at me and then talked to Tank and the nurse. Before I knew it he and the ladies were gone. The nurse went to check what would be my bedroom. The big man came and sat down next in a recliner next to me. The cats jumped up and snuggled into my lap. "They seem to like you."

"They are so soft. I don't think I've ever had a pet."

"You've never had a pet?"

"I can't remember, but this is from someone who just said pissapple. Speaking of pets," I began, "I must check on my neighbor's puppy."

"Frosyni, you rescued kittens. One of them died soon after it arrived at the vet's. I've already checked on the other one. Neither kitten made it."

"Poor babies. I wonder what their names were." I felt my eyes get teary, but it was probably the drugs.

"Their names were Delilah and Sampson. You gave them a chance, most people wouldn't have bothered."

How did he know their names? "How about my neighbor?" What was her name?

"I haven't heard." Actually he had but didn't want to burden me with more bad news. My eyes were already beginning to over flow. My neighbor, Mrs. Grey, had passed.

"Do you want to go to bed or stretch out here?

I was horrified a man wanted to take me to bed. If my ribs didn't still hurt as well as everything else, I might have chewed his ass. "Sir, I'll stay here," I said bluntly and with a sneer.

He rose, talked to the nurse. I quickly fell asleep.

* * *

The fire was now a homicide and the Trenton police had already spoken to me in the hospital, but I didn't remember. They wanted to interview me again.

The next day, a Trenton police detective named Sorvello and the Fire Marshall named Radnovich came to Tank's house. The nurse and Stephanie had me propped up on a couch. Pillows helped support my arm.

"Major Pappas," Sorvello began, "We need to ask you additional questions."

"More? I don't remember you asking me questions."

They looked apprehensive. "You didn't remember much, we are hoping your memory has returned."

I would have laughed, "It is still a gradual process."

"You told us you didn't know the names of the people in the exploded apartment. Can you describe them?"

"I only remember a woman coming from the apartment, once: Latino, 5'4" medium complexion, weight was light, probably just over 100 pounds, long straight hair nearly to her waist. Tattoo around her neck, like a feather. Arms covered, hand had what may have been a daisy flower tattoo. I did not talk to her or even acknowledge her."

"What did you hear from the apartment?"

"I never heard voices, just loud, thumping Hip Hop crap or Latino music, more Mexican style. I kept my ear buds in a lot when home."

"Tell us about the morning of the explosion."

I carefully relayed everything from entering the parking lot at 0825, walking up the stairs, entering through the fire door and getting at most 40 feet down the hall when the odor of chemicals became overwhelming.

"What did you smell?" Radnovich asked.

I hesitated to think, and then said, "Ammonia at first. I thought someone was cleaning. Then I caught the acetone and knew to get out."

"How many explosions do you remember?"

"Two, sirs. The original one when I was in the hall and again when I just entered Mrs...my neighbor's apartment."

"Did you notice anyone suspicious hanging around the apartment complex?"

"Define suspicious, sir. I was born, raised, educated and now serve in the US Army. All civilians are suspicious. Most wander about not knowing where they are, what they are doing. Half of them looked stoned. They lack discipline or a sense of purpose."

After the men left I turned to the nurse, "I think I upset them. I don't think I'll be seeing any more of Mr. Radish and Mr. Sore Jello. What strange names."

Both the nurse and Stephanie looked at me like I had horns coming out the side of my head.

"I need a nap," I responded and I was out almost instantly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The ground heaved beneath me; aerial bombardment. Voices were calling my name. The unit was moving out, I thought I heard the helicopters' beating the air. I was under my camouflage ghillie. Something was wrong, I couldn't get up, was the ghillie snagged? The unit leader kept calling. They would leave me behind if I didn't get moving. I tried to scream but I couldn't breathe.

The enemy would soon be here, I had to get away! Someone grabbed me and I tried lashed out but my left arm wouldn't move. Who was holding me down? My right fist found something solid. "Major, wake up! "Damnit Major Pappas, wake up! Frosyni!"

I was covered in sweat, my body screaming in pain. My eyes focused on a large well-muscled dark man in loose pants but no shirt. Friend or foe? I watched him carefully. Where was I: Caribbean, Central or South America, maybe Africa?

He talked to me, but I couldn't understand him. He ran his massive hand over my right shoulder and arm. I stiffened. Don't touch me! I tried to hit him but he held my arm down.

I stared at him. Who was he? I started to shiver then gag. Suddenly I was carried to a toilet where all hell broke loose. My chest was screaming or maybe that was me. I may have blacked out because I was later aware of being wiped down with a warm cloth.

After a while I was back in a bed but still shivering. The shirtless man crawled into bed with me and wrapped his body around mine. All I could mumble was, "I love you daddy." I felt him gasp before I fell asleep.

"Major...Frosyni..."

"No," I think I mumbled.

"Efrosyni, wake up."

When I awoke, two men and a woman were at my bedside. One man was shirtless; the other was dressed in what appeared to be blacks BDUs. The woman was in some weird tribal outfit with what appeared to be kittens on the fabric. I whispered to the one dressed in black, "Sir, why is the corpsman out of uniform?" Everyone looked troubled.

"What do you remember, Major?"

"Major? I'm not a major, sir."

"Who you are?"

"Sir, Cadet Pappas, sir."

"She needs to be in hospital." Bobby said.

"What's wrong?" The shirtless man asked.

Could be a delayed brain bleed, stroke or drug poisoning.

* * *

A week later I was back in the familiar house, Tank's house. There may have been a brain bleed, the results were inconclusive. For certain I was very reactive to one of the meds and was slowly being poisoned. Tank laid the food tray across my lap, tea and toast. I still wasn't up for much food. He turned to leave, "I'll be back."

"Yes, Arnold" I replied in a lowered voice with an Austrian accent.

He turned and was concerned I was hallucinating again, then flashed a million dollar smile. "I'm glad you are back."

"I'm very happy to be back up here," I said tapping my head. "And happy back here," I said as my right arm swept generally around my bedroom. We had been through a lot together these past 2 or 3 weeks and we were getting very comfortable with one another.

"Sergeant …." I said as he was exiting the door.

"Yes ma'am?" he said automatically.

I smiled, "Thank you." I suspected he had been a sergeant; he had that aura of control and command. Pity he wasn't still in service, I wouldn't mind having him on my staff. I stopped for a moment. Was this another drug reaction or was I finding him….what? Friendly, personable, interesting, capable?

The nurse, Charlotte, came for a few hours each morning to tend to my physical needs; the burns were healing the broken bones still presented mobility problems. Stephanie came in the early afternoon to keep an eye on me and prepare a light meal. I quickly learned she was not a cook.

"You don't like fried chicken?" she gasped. She had stopped at some drive- thru called Cluck in a Bucket on her way to Tank's house.

"The nurse and doctor said light meal. Fried chicken and potato salad are not a light meal," I said.

"Should I have gotten nuggets instead?"

I wanted to shake my head in amazement; she really knows nothing about preparing food. "Nothing greasy, please," I said. "A simple sandwich is fine."

"I wasn't sure there was peanut butter and olives in Tank's kitchen."

I shuddered to think what she'd do with peanut butter and olives. "I imagine Tank or Charlotte left sliced meat in the deli drawer or a red and white soup can in the pantry," I replied.

Stephanie moved on, "Major, we really need to address you hair. Ella's niece is a hair dresser and is coming over. She will figure out what to do."

"Thank goodness, I'm offending myself," I uttered. Nurse Charlotte had used the dry shampoo on my hair as water on the burned area was still painful, but the hair wasn't clean or had the burned sections been removed.

The niece and Ella arrived and immediately the question was "where" to wash. Due to the neck and face burns and the awkward arm, the shower was out. The broken ribs ruled out bending over a sink. Tank's kitchen had a very long counter on one side of the sink. I would stretch out on the counter. I giggled, I never giggle; I've been out of uniform for too long.

"What's funny?" Stephanie asked.

I'm glad Tank isn't here. Don't want him to think I am a Sushi model.

Ella and her niece laughed, Stephanie looked confused.

"Women food models who lay naked on a buffet table as Sushi is served off their body," I explained.

"They what?" She gasped.

"The practice is called Nyotaimori, dates back to the time of the Samurai."

"How do people? You know….."

I wasn't sure of the 'how' part of her question, so answered, "With chopsticks."

"No, no, the food, how is it served- on plates?"

"Depends on where it is …" I answered.

"Do certain parts of the body require plates and others don't?" She was very uncomfortable with the whole idea.

I glanced at Ella. She had a very bemused expression. She was enjoying Stephanie's discomfort. My mind ran with various answers, but decided to show I was an officer and a lady-sometimes. "It varies with the country and sanitation rules, but plates are generally not used, they are too slippery. Traditionally the food is served from the skin or maybe artfully arranged banana leaves. In countries with more strict sanitary rules, clear plastic covers the body."

"Like Saran wrap?"

"No, something a little thicker is used in commercial restaurants, though Saran would work for private parties where the health department wouldn't show up."

"Have you….?"

"No. To keep the skin cool, it is iced down often. I do not tolerate ice or snow on my skin. Second, the women have to be geisha-like; petite and flat.

"I would think you'd make a nice long buffet table." She smirked.

I deserved the smirk, "If the woman is too muscled, curvy, or fat the food falls off."

Everyone laughed, especially Stephanie as apparently she was mentally picturing someone.

"Maybe they need men on the table," Nita offered.

For the briefest moment I thought of a company of shirtless Delta Force guys at Bragg; that would have made quite a buffet. "It's done."

I noticed Stephanie and Ella exchanged glances. Wonder what they were thinking?

Once off the counter, I was sitting in a dining room chair and Nita began combing and cutting my hair. Stephanie and Ella watched. "I'm also glad Tank isn't here," Stephanie murmured. "He wanted to know if there was any way to keep the long hair."

"Me too" I replied.

"About half of your hair was burned. Along the right side you have only an inch left that is salvageable. Women pay big bucks for a punk long and short cut, but I don't think it would meet Army regulations," Nita said.

Nita carefully worked around the burned area. When complete all three, Stephanie, Ella, and Nita stood back and smiled, "It's cute."

"I don't do cute," was my terse reply. "Speaking of which, isn't it time I have real clothes? The long silk gowns make me look like a dark skin Jean Harlow. I don't want to be exciting Tank."

Stephanie leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms. "Actually we think the clothes are a good idea. We have been worried about Tank ever since he and Lula split up months ago. Now with Ranger away, Tank is in command. He's been sullen. You've bright light back into his eyes."

"What ranger, whose command and me," I sputtered "I think we need to start at the beginning." Was I having a drug reaction relapse?

I paid Nita generously for my hair wash and cut, "Sounds like you did an excellent job, thank you. Maybe a nice hair style will give me courage to look in the mirror."

Nita and Ella left. Stephanie found sliced turkey in the refrigerator deli drawer and made sandwiches. "What no olives?" I teased.

"You like olives?"

"Stephanie, I'm half Greek, I love olives."

She jumped up and came back with a dish with several dozen olives. "I guess I share these with you," she smiled.

As we ate I learned about the security company called Rangeman, founder Ricardo Carlos Manoso and the employees Stephanie calls the Merry Men.

"So Carlos Manoso, nick name Ranger, is at another business location," I stated.

"At least that is what he told me, but it's been too long now. He might have been called to his government job."

"He's a federal employee with a private business on the side?"

"No, he does Army business."

"Then he's a contractor?" I asked.

"No, he's a soldier, they call him back for special jobs," she explained.

"Ah, he's IRR," I said though this felt different.

'I don't know what that is" she mumbled.

Didn't I have this talk with Tank or somebody? For some reason mercenary stuck in my mind.

"Doesn't matter," I quickly changed the topic. "Rangeman has a concierge doctor, Bobby Brown who prefers to be called a medic from his Army days."

Stephanie shook her head yes. "I've never thought of Bobby as a concierge doctor. To me he is a former Special Forces Ranger medic tending the guys, doing security work, or even going on missions with Ranger."

Was Rangeman a disguise for a team of mercenaries? I didn't know.

"Ranger, Bobby, Tank, Hal and Lester have served together in the Army and later in their government work. Hal was the first to leave their contract jobs, then, Tank and Bobby. Lester hasn't been called away for a year now. Maybe he is finished too. Only Ranger remains."

"Are most Rangeman employees military?" I asked.

"Most but not all," she replied. "My boyfriend, a cop, thinks Rangeman employees are from the Jersey State Penal System."

"Are there some?"

"I suspect a few might, but Ranger saw something in them and gave them a new start, structure in their life. I think Hector might be one, but I'm not certain."

"And your position with Rangeman?"

"Ah, that's complicated."

We then moved on to Stephanie's life. It sounded like she has been conflicted over her two relationships, one with the police detective and the other with Ranger. Recently she had made a decision and was waiting for something, she didn't say what. Her mother sounded like a typical middle class woman who sought only a husband and family and was now pushing the same on her daughters. One was married to a less than stellar attorney and Stephanie was being nudged back to the altar by her mother.

She worked as a bond apprehension agent with Lula. This was the second time she mentioned the name. When bond apprehension didn't pay her bills, she worked at Rangeman as a search coordinator.

"So Tank and Lula are no longer together?" I asked.

"Lula was hot to marry Tank but Tank wasn't. As far as I know, Tank has never had a true girl friend or love in his life, outside of his cats. This is why you being here is such a novelty for us observers."

"Nothing has happened. He's been a perfect gentleman, but I will admit, the night I had that drug reaction, he crawled in bed to keep me warm and he was very comfortable. I haven't had a man in my bed before and it felt nice."

"You haven't had a man in your bed?" Stephanie asked astonished.

"Nope, never. No wait, my father would hold me if I had a nightmare or I was ill. Maybe that's why Tank felt so good. He felt like my father."

"Seriously, you've never, you know, had sex with a man?'' Her eyes were wide in disbelief.

"I've never had a sexual relationship or any relationship with a man or woman. I'm celibate."

Stephanie's eyes nearly fell out of her head. "Why, are you also a nun? Can nuns be soldiers?"

I still hurt too much to laugh so I had to hold my breath. Finally I inhaled slowly, "I'm hardly a nun," I replied.

Stephanie thought for a while, "I can't understand, if you are not a nun, why are you willingly celibate? It's not natural."

I've killed, Stephanie. I've killed quite a few people. I was a sniper for a while. I've worked this out with psychiatrists, now it is between the Lord and me. I don't need to complicate my life with relationships or even casual sex without marriage."

She remained quiet. Was she embarrassed after what she told me about her life?

"Stephanie, I am not judging you and your relationships," I said.

I continued, "My military life is a very structured life. If I were to start with sex outside of marriage, I suspect I would find it very…..distracting. Lives depend on me being able to do my job well. To maintain a high level I have to stay focused on my work and continually train and upgrade my skills."

"What do you mean train and upgrade your skills?" Her eyes showed she was thinking about something else. Had she heard this before?

"I need to be my best physically and mentally. I am exceptionally strong for a woman because I work at it. I'm not into body building for competition, I need the extra fat for endurance, but I need a body that works like a machine, a strong agile machine.

I'm also a computer specialist. I must remain on the cutting edge if not be the one creating the edge. All this takes time at the expense of a social life.

Finally, I need a spiritual life. Without it, my life has little value. Most people try to make sense by materialistic pleasures; new cars, electronics, for example. Or they fall to sensual or addictive pleasures; sex, food, drugs, alcohol, or constantly monitoring their cell phones. If you don't believe the last one, take a cell phone away from someone and watch them dissolve. We see it constantly in basic training. Anyway, all are poor substitutes for a spiritual life. My spiritual work-outs are just as intense as time spent in field training or working out."

"Do you eat bark and berries?" she asked with a gleam in her eye.

I gave her my stone face. Where did that question come from?

"Ranger has a disciplined diet."

I smiled. "Yes, Steph, to keep sharp one has to eat sharp. The exception is out in the field, then bark and berries would be preferred to some of the prepacked garbage we get."

"Is that why you turned down the friend chicken?"

"Generally I pop off the coating, but right now the residual oil is still upsetting to my stomach. The meds did a number on it as well as my brain."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Tank was waking me up, apparently Stephanie had gone. It was dark outside; I had no clue of the time. "Bobby is on his way to check on you. Before he gets here, what is this about you wanting me to serve you sushi?"

I can't imagine what my expression was as a myriad of thoughts flashed through my mind: What did Stephanie or Ella say to him? Yeah, I vaguely remembered his chest and thought about …. Whoa! I'm losing control. I need to get back to work. "I don't know what they are talking about," I lied. "I don't eat raw fish from anyone."

He looked at me like he didn't understand my answer. I congratulated myself for not saying "off of any...body."

After the exam Bobby said, "I want to start rehab at Rangeman in a week. In the meantime let's see how well you can walk. I brought a cane."

I was great getting up and down on one leg, like a flamingo but my left hip wouldn't take my full weight, so I used the cane. I wasn't graceful but it got me around the house and especially to the bathroom, a most important destination.

"Good," Bobby nodded. "I want you to walk more; around the house or outside if there isn't ice and snow. By the way, your new hair cut is cute. You look a little like Halle Berry."

I scowled. "Thank you, I haven't had the courage to look at it." I'm not used to compliments on my appearance.

After Bobby left Tank looked at my new haircut, "I like it. You have a bit of curl. But why are you in your sweats? I liked the silks, the colors were nice and they felt good." The last part caused me embarrassment.

"The hair cut filled them with hair. They need washing," my best diversion.

"All of them?"

Busted. I blushed. "The silk….ah, my …ah." There was no way I could find to tell him my breast nipples needed a break from the silk.

We watched a _Fast and Furious_ movie while I carefully sipped a most delicious chicken soup from a mug. When the mug was empty I held it up, "Is there more porridge please?" Tank flashed a million dollar smile. "Ella's chicken soup has another fan."

When the movie ended Tank asked if I wanted to watch something else.

"What are my choices?"

He looked embarrassed, "Guy movies."

"Tank, I'm an Army major, I'm no Mary Poppins. I love guy movies, but I'd like to know more about Pierre Sherman."

He looked uncomfortable, "I'd rather watch another movie."

I suspected there was a lot to know about Pierre Sherman, but he was still shy.

The next day I was once again asleep when Tank came home, but this time I was on the couch with Tank's Bible and three cats snuggled around. "Sunday school for kitties?" He asked as he removed the Bible from my hands.

"Prayer time, I hope you don't mind me using your Bible, mine are gone.

"No, not at all. Are you Catholic?"

"No Greek Orthodox."

Tank nodded, "Do you attend St. George? It's across the street from where I attend mass."

"You attend Mass?"

"I returned to the church after ...well, after doing some serious soldiering. The Lord and I have a lot to talk about." He said as he moved towards the book shelf.

"Me too," I mumbled.

Tank turned and looked surprised, "You've been in combat?"

"You don't get to be my rank at my age without several tours in hot zones. Tank, I was a sniper for a number of years. I wasn't duck hunting."

"I've never asked what…."

"Don't."

That said enough for Tank. Someday I'll ask about his contract work, but not now.

Tank went to feed the cats, "I've fed them. Don't let them con you out of another meal."

"No wonder you are now their best friend." If being fed was the way to become best friends, Tank was wooing me the same way. "Ella sent her excellent beef stew. I picked up French bread."

"Only thing missing is the French Burgundy," I said wistfully. A glass of wine sounded delightful right now.

"You are still on meds."

 _"Semper bona spe,"_ I said.

Tank looked back, "I've got the " _semper_ " but what is the rest?"

"Ever hopeful."

His look was suddenly intense, then he smiled, "Yeah."

I'm not sure he was talking about the wine.

* * *

I knew from past injuries, the more I moved around after doctor's OK, the faster I'd get better. The nurse walked with me in the mornings in case I face planted. Stephanie was my afternoon supervisor, but it was Tank that encouraged the most work. Providing his job didn't keep him at the office or supervising action in town, we'd walk up and down his long driveway.

"You really don't have family, Frosyni," he asked as we walked in the dark, cold air with only the landscape lights for illumination.

"No. Both parents are gone, I was an only child. My father only had her mother and she died when he was 20. My mother mentioned cousins in Panama, but they are like 2nd or 3rd cousins she met once."

"What about friends?"

"Just George Halvers. I met him when I was 17. He's Army. We touch base several times a year. That's it. I move around too much to make friends."

"Nobody from West Point?"

I scoffed, "That was hardly the best four years of my life."

He looked like he was going to ask why but he changed his mind, thankfully. "Sounds like a lonely life." he said.

There were other reasons I am such a loner, but now was not the time to disucss them. "Probably why I'm such a bitch; you know that's my nick name, the Ft. Dix Bitch."

Though he knew the nick name he acted like he had not heard it before. He chuckled, "What have you done to earn that moniker?"

I remained quiet for a while as we walked up and down his long driveway. "I do my job as best I can and expect others to do the same. If I think they can or should do better, I give _The Talk_. You were a sergeant; you know what I'm talking about. But being a woman I'm labeled a bitch for chewing ass, men are called leaders, motivators, or tough." I left the rest unsaid.

He thought as we walked, "You must give some stern lectures."

"Oh, I have had my days, mister. Being raised on Army bases has left me with an enriched vocabulary…..I try not to use too often."

The next night I finally learned a little about Pierre Sherman. "My parents and younger sister were killed in an auto accident. I was 14. That night I was out on the streets with my friends but told my folks I had basketball practice. I didn't get home until after midnight; a neighbor lady had called around to the parents of kids she had seen me with. One was the Manosos. Carlos and I along with several others were out ….making trouble. Mr. Manoso was waiting for me along with a lady from social services. I was put into a foster family for all of about 30 seconds before I ran away to the Manosos. They convinced social services I could live with them. They already had a house filled with kids, but found room for me in their home and hearts.

While Carlos slipped further and further into gang life, I turned away from it. Sports became my life. Carlos went to juvie for auto theft. When he got out, he was shipped to his _abuelita_ in Florida. I stayed clean even earning a sports scholarship to Rutgers. Carlos joined me for two years, but he was still having problems. He dropped out and joined the Army. I graduated.

After graduation I was confused, I didn't know what I wanted to do. I got on my motorcycle and toured the country for a year. When I returned I joined the Army. I was selected for Ranger school and it was sheer dumb luck I assigned to serve with Carlos.

Together he and I served in one hot spot after another. Eventually we along with several other guys became an elite fighting unit transitioning to government contract jobs."

He looked at me as if to ask "you understand?"

I whispered, "mercenaries."

He shook his head yes.

"We were brothers down to the soul, but the work killed us internally. The contract jobs were not continual. To keep busy a group of us started a security company in Miami and named it Rangeman. Eventually we set up offices in Atlanta and Trenton to be near the Manoso family. For a while there was an office in Boston, but it was sold."

"Your core team…it included Lester, Hal and Bobby?"

"You've been talking to Stephanie."

I nodded.

"Lester wasn't initially in the core team. When he left the Army he joined us in the contractual work. There were three more in the core team; two down in Miami, one in Atlanta. While each office is autonomous, Ranger oversees all."

I wondered who would oversee all if Ranger did not return.

Tank continued, "Rangeman is more than a security business. We do…let's call them 'odd jobs' other groups can't handle. Instead of being paid by the government, it is part of our business. In addition we are a transition for guys coming out of service but aren't quite ready for civilian life."

I wasn't sure what he was referring to. "The 'odd jobs', give me an example."

"Businessman's son get kidnapped and held for ransom. We do the money exchange and make sure the son is returned...and whatever else is needed."

I understood.

"Am I correct Ranger is the only one still on government contract?"

"Yeah, Hal took a bad hit. Ranger asked him to run the Trenton office. I left next, partially because of injury, but also Ranger had become emotionally tied to Stephanie and needed me to have her back as well as train new recruits. When Bobby became an MD, Ranger wouldn't let him back on missions, said he was too valuable now and needed to oversee all three Rangeman offices medical care. Bobby wasn't pleased; he is a solider to the core."

"But you run the Trenton office, not Hal."

"Hal's request. He hates paper work more than I do," Tank said with a chuckle. "Anyway, I'm the one with the business degree."

"Lester?"

"His contract just expired, he did not want to renew. Ranger accepted that."

"Why does Ranger keep renewing? He's not 25 anymore."

Initially the core team used a portion of our contract money to build Rangeman. Ranger continues not for the money but because he is good at it, but mostly his ego and to excise demons."

"He's not going to excise demons if he continues." I said.

"Yeah, but he doesn't see it that way."

"What about his relationship with Stephanie?"

"I suspect the minute she throws that horse's ass Morelli overboard, Ranger will come around….at least that's what we hope."

"We?"

"Stephanie is like our baby sister, at first she was annoying but now she's grown and we'll do anything to protect her and see her happy. When she and Ranger are together, they are an incredible team."

"You do anything outside of Rangeman?"

"Not really. If I go hunting it is with Ranger, Bobby, Hal sometimes Lester."

"How come Carlos is called Ranger since most of you are also rangers?"

"Nickname he picked up on the streets here. It fits."

"And your name Tank?"

"It's tough growing up on the streets with a name of Pierre; did teach me how to fight, though. When I started growing, the kids started calling me Tank, I liked it better."

One evening we couldn't walk outside due to snow so we walked around the house, eventually ending up in the great room in front of the fireplace. Since Tank had been forthcoming about his family I opened up, a bitmore.

"After daddy died life was difficult for my mother and me. I was lost; suddenly we were no longer Army. Mama had to go to work. Friends from the base ignored me, civilian kids thought me a freak as I was already tall. Mama insisted I concentrate on school, "That's your future, Frosyni." So I tried to be the best student I could."

"How did you end up at West Point?"

"I wanted to be a doctor but the money wasn't there for college and med school. As the child of a MoH winner, I could attend West Point. The Army would pay for Med school, but I didn't get the assignment." I left out the reason, that was future discussion.

"Did you participate in sports or music?"

"I played the French horn for years, daddy taught me initially. I also enjoyed singing. At one point I told daddy I wanted to be a jazz singer. He laughed, "You can do better than that, dear."

Being tall I was expected to play basketball, but I hated it. I did the best I could as that was expected. What I really enjoyed was martial arts. It was a financial struggle for Mama to pay for my lessons, but she saw how much I enjoyed them. I've continued study up to the present. Being posted around the world has given me a chance to study under several different masters. Just for fun I teach children's self-defense and pre-Martial arts class.

"You enjoy working with kids?"

"I do. Many parents are clueless, all this touchy feely parenting. Sometimes I'm the first "no" the children have heard in their life. I'm all for letting them explore their boundaries, but the boundaries have to be drawn. I get tears initially but very soon the child is happy and thriving. They need direction and control; they are too young to do it themselves." I thought of Stephanie and wondered about her childhood.

"Is this injury going to create a problem for the kids?"

"Probably, the first one is scheduled in a few weeks. I hope I'm up and around, somewhat. Otherwise I may need to cancel it."

"I might be able to help you with substitutes. I have some guys on staff who could help."

"Rangeman? They'd have to get along well with kids."

He snorted, "Some of them are more like kids…sometimes."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **MyMerryMen suggested I start using POVs. I'll give it a try.**

 **Tank's POV**

I was cooking breakfast while Charlotte prepared Frosyni for her first day of rehab at Rangeman. This remarkable woman solider had come a long way in a few weeks from her apartment explosion where she nearly died, twice; once from the original injuries and second from the possible brain bleed and drug poisoning.

She still tires easily and suffers, quietly from headaches and blurry vision, but those confounded malapropos and other misspeaks are gone…..apparently. She still says things I'm not sure she's kidding or having trouble. Playful banter seems to be new to her; like a comic trying out new material and her timing is off.

What made me, an empty shell of a man; offer my house for her recovery? There was something about her, broken and burned in the vet's office that went straight to my….brain or heart? I still didn't know.

Life in the last twenty years or so has been empty. My family's death left a big hole. College was empty, just a job. The Army built up my confidence, but the contract jobs afterward tore out my soul. I did my job and did it well because the others' lives relied upon me. But during the last few years, each new mission I felt myself falling further into Hell and taking longer to come back. I was empty, just going thru the motions.

I sense emptiness in Frosyni as well. Being a sniper can be soul destroying, but there's more. I would love to bring light into her life, but I have none to give…except around her I feel a spark, maybe a small flame.

I looked up and she was standing beside the breakfast bar with her yoga pants on and a robe over the top. "Ella got my size spot on for these yoga pants, but my shoulder and ribs won't let me wear a bra. Is that going to be a problem at Rangeman?"

Oh no, it was hard enough to keep my eyes from her unrestrained chest, how will 30 men react? I knew damn well how they'd react.

"I'll put saltpeter in their coffee," I mumbled jokingly. An urban myth continues that saltpeter was added to Army coffee to keep soldiers libido under control. I wish it actually worked.

She smiled, laughing was still too painful. I have had enough broken ribs to understand her blight.

"I'll give you one of my t-shirts. It is big enough to hide your..." There was no way I could say breasts, boobs, tits, mammeries or even chest without getting a bit tight in my pants.

"What, can't say it" she grinned?

I shook my head. I was both embarrassed and enjoying the banter.

Suddenly she punched me in my left pec. I winced.

She looked concerned. "Old injury," she asked.

"You really nailed me the night you were hallucinating. You don't hit like a girl." I replied.

"I've had years of martial arts, several different kinds."

"How many years have you studied?"

"Let's see, twenty…. thirty….. Her eyes grew wide.

I had no how old she was. "You started from the crib."

"Thank you" she said and came forward and kissed my cheek." She froze realizing what she had done. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be so bold." Before I could respond she was gone.

I went to my closet and got a new Rangeman t-shirt from the drawer. This should be loose enough to help her retain her modesty. I smiled at the thought of her in my clothes and then quickly brought myself back under control. This was an Army major and a lady, not one of my typical women, like Lula. I couldn't be my usual Don Juan with this lady, using and discarding. I had enjoyed Lula's former profession's ability allowing me to live and play at my lowest level both morally and emotionally. Frosyni made me feel different, want more; a higher level of more.

 **Frosyni POV**

Rangeman Security was housed in a seven story building that appeared to have been extensively remodeled. I had a visitor tag with my picture which allowed me above the first floor. The picture was my military ID with the name Major Efrosyni Pappas. How did they come by that information? I'd have to ask Tank.

"Good to see you up and around Major", Bobby said as I hobbled on my cane into the 4th floor clinic.

Tank gave my right shoulder a squeeze, I froze. "I've got to get to work." And he was off. Bobby noted the shoulder squeeze and my reaction.

"He's a good nurse and a gentleman." I said as I watched him walk towards the stairs. For such a big solid man he was surprisingly light on his feet.

Bobby smiled. "I'm sure many people would not put those two tags on Tank. You seem to have a special effect on him. You still have the nurse, right? "

"Yes," I smiled. "For as long as my arm is in this contraption I need help bathing and dressing; asking Tank to help me would be difficult for both of us. I can't wait for my wing here to be freed and I can tend myself."

Bobby changed the subject, "I've been examining your X-rays and CT Scan. Tell me how you lost your spleen."

"Bus accident, Williamsburg, Virginia. I was 17. My mother was killed in the accident and it nearly killed my chances of getting into West Point. I had big time internal injuries on my left side: diaphragm, lung, spleen in addition to ribs and clavicle." I said thinking of the irony. "Here we are again."

Bobby looked at my oversized t-shirt, "Are you wearing anything underneath Tank's shirt?"

"Only a loose camisole, my wardrobe is limited, plus I can't stand anything tight around my chest."

"We'll stay here in the clinic while I examine your injuries, then head to the gym where you can wear the t-shirt if you wish."

Good idea doc I thought, though I was tall and well-muscled, not all the mass on my chest was pectoral muscles. My non-corralled boobs amongst the men…

Before I got further down that mental path Bobby said, "Our session will be private, the gym will be closed."

"Thank you sir" and I meant every word.

Bobby took X-rays and then manipulated my left arm and hip. I remained mute, "You don't have to be a toughie here. I need better communication between patient and doctor and therapist."

"I know you can't do the exam without touching me, but…"

"I saw how you reacted to Tank's touch. Are you haphephobic?"

"Yes."

"Have you always been?"

"Drugged and sexually assaulted at 19. I'm OK doing martial arts as I can react aggressively, but general touching by men especially…..it's hard. I'm constantly fighting it. It's one reason I don't do relationships."

I wanted to change the subject; I didn't need to share my phobias with Bobby. "You are also a therapist?"

"I'm primarily a trauma doctor, but as the in-house medic, I've also studied rehab for trauma injuries. My specialty is putting elite soldiers back together.

"You need that here?" I asked.

"Our work here can get….…rough. We are a bit more than a typical security company."

So I had heard. "I'm grateful you lowered your standards for me," I said.

"Nothing is lowered Major; I've read part of your files and talked to the hand to hand instructors at Dix. They have nothing but praise you. I think they are enjoying you being away for a while so their bruises heal."

He had my files! The last time someone did that I was being railroaded into either Leavenworth or death.

Bobby continued the exam and I tried to speak, but found myself grinding my teeth instead, grunting as necessary. After the exam, Bobby said, "I'll send the X-rays and notes to Dr. Johansen suggesting it's time for you to move to a sling. He may still want to examine you himself. I suspect you'll be in a sling shortly."

Bobby was correct, I needed to visit Johansen in Newark but came away with my arm in a far more comfortable sling. But it was several more weeks before the ribs were healed enough to allow a bra to be worn. Finally my breasts were corralled but now had the problem of taking the bra on and off. Nurse Charlotte had moved on to other patients.

"Sheesh, oooooh, dang…"

"Frosyni, are you OK?" asked Tank from the hall way.

"No, I'm stuck!" I shot back."

"Stuck?"

"My bra, I can't the darn thing on or off."

There was a long pause; I actually smiled imagining his dilemma. Finally I broke the silence, "Damnit Tank, give me a hand."

It wasn't like I was in the buff, I had my yoga pants on and my back was turned to the door. His strong hands and fingers made quick work of the problem.

"You can open your eyes now," I said through clenched teeth.

"If my eyes had been closed I would have to feel a lot more than I did. You were the one with closed eyes."

He was right.

"You do have lovely back muscles," he said as he lightly ran his fingers across my back. I stiffened.

"Did I hurt you?"

Those four words went right to my heart. I hung my head. "No, I have a problem with touch, in particular men and touch." I turned around and had wet eyes, "I'm sorry, it is hard enough for a doctor to touch me let alone….." I couldn't think what to call him, friend? "Next time tell me you are going to touch so I can prepare. In fact, do it again, just like you did before. I need to work through this."

He tipped his head as if thinking about it.

I turned around, "Now what is it about my back…?" His fingers touched me lightly as before. I trembled a little.

"You need to get back to the gym, you are becoming unbalanced," he said quietly.

"Yeah, Bobby is trying to keep me toned but being trussed up like a turkey for the oven has done a number on my muscle fitness."

It wasn't long before Tank saw my problem with the muscle unbalance. Muscle spasms were becoming common.

One evening he caught me rubbing my back on a wall edge.

"What are you doing? Do you have an itch?"

"No, a back spasm," I moaned.

"Can I help?" Then his eyes widened when he remembered my touch phobia.

I tried to talk myself into letting him touch me again. It was bad enough Bobby touched me as a doctor, but I couldn't let Tank touch me the way my Trapezius and Longissimus muscles required. I shook my head no. I felt like pond slime and I'm sure my face showed it. There was so much I wanted to do with him; dance, walk arm in arm, have him scratch an itch I couldn't reach, but all was beyond me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 **Frosyni POV**

Before my gym hours increased and I'd be encountering the other Rangeman employees, Tank felt it necessary to introduce me.

"There have been quite a few rumors going around about our guest," he looked at one man in particular. "I'm sure Santos has been creative."

Santos? Why that was name familiar. Something about Santa and pants….

"I want the gossip stopped, at least outside of Rangeman, NOW." He said forcefully. Yes, he was a sergeant.

Tank continued, "This is Major Efrosyni Pappas US Army. She is rehabbing with Bobby. Let me warn you, she is a hand to hand expert and master in numerous martial arts. Once she heals she will be able to beat the shit out of all of us at the same time. Right now her hip and arm might slow her down. She was Presidents 100 and a sniper. She takes no prisoners in handball. Finally, no we are not sleeping together, just sharing a house. A number of eyebrows hit the ceiling, but not mine; they still hadn't reappeared.

Nearly every day I met more Rangeman employees. Of course they were interested in the woman living with Tank. Each was a gentleman and introduced himself. I in return explained the apartment explosion, trying to save three kittens which immediately made me worthy in Tank's eyes for temporary housing.

I was working in the gym watching the several men on the weights. One, I think Lester said, "Like what you see?" He wiggled his eyebrows; something I'd quickly learn was his special bad-boy trait.

"Naw, I've been around better specimens than you." I brushed him off.

That brought some bravado from the men.

"Who? This is a no steroid zone," one unnamed responded. "We are naturals, Ranger insists on it."

"Some of the guys down at Bragg, they are primo," I answered. A guy named Ram looked at me like he knew and winked.

"I take it you know what I'm talking about?" I asked.

"Yes ma'am," he said, "I was behind the fence."

I nodded. He had been in Delta Force. The Delta men were separate for other Ft. Bragg activities.

"Well," I said, "I'm not being fair to you guys. Your mission now is intimidation first, with flexibility, agility, and speed a close second. "

I looked at Hal, "See, he looks intimidating; you are not going to knock that guy on his ass. He's strong but maybe muscle bound. I bet underneath he is slow in the 100, better in the 200 and 400, very good on the range, strong as hell, dogged on the trail, and a real lady killer."

Everyone laughed. The big blonde blushed. "You nailed it, ma'am," he said.

"What about Eric here?" Lester asked.

"With his long lean but tight muscles, this is the guy I want first up the rope or scrambling over obstacles. He is agile, fast, strong, and great endurance. Makes for a good solider or great lover, not that I have any experience. Do you swim, Eric?

"Yes ma'am." He smartly replied.

Maybe …Navy…SEAL?"

"Yes ma'am." He said again and appeared surprised.

I nodded. Delta Ram and SEAL Eric, Rangeman had talent.

"What do you make of Hector," they asked referring to the shorter Latino covered in tattoos with his shirt off.

"Frankly he scares me. In addition to have a very well-muscled body, his tats so well hide his knife scars. Since he's still alive I'd say he's perfected his weapon. Shrewd, intelligent, loyal."

He looked at me and winked.

Finally Lester said, "What can you tell about me?"

I remembered Stephanie said he served with Ranger on the government missions. "You are a little lacking down below….…in the legs. I tried to hold that leg part out as long as possible. "I peg you more for distance runner than brute strength. I suspect you are an exemplary solider, good with several different weapons, though you consider your best weapon your pants. From what I've seen, your ego is greater than your impressive chest size."

Everyone broke up laughing, "You nailed it ma'am."

Other enjoyable times in the gym are when the men spar. I so wanted to get on the mats and mix it up with them, but I wasn't anywhere near healed. One morning I watched a new recruit's hand to hand skills being tested against Tank. The recruit was good but had some flaws that were getting him battered.

"Hold it guys," I yelled.

The gym was instantly quiet and every face whipped in my direction as if to say I was seriously out of bounds. I was only a guest and a woman at that. Did I hear Tank growl?

"Mr. Sherman, may I take Jason aside for a few minutes. Let him get his wits about himself."

Tank looked at me coolly and nodded. I could tell a pissed off Tank would be formidable.

I showed took Jason out into the hall and showed him what he was doing wrong and how to correct it. He was agile which made me think he had gymnastic or martial arts skills.

"You do any martial arts?"

"Yes ma'am I did Tae Kwon Do when I was younger."

"So why are you getting battered in there?

"I thought it was strictly hand to hand."

"He's in there testing your ability to survive on the streets, not being judged by a hand to hand instructor. Here, let me show you a couple of Krav Maga moves to throw him off, remember what I told you about your left hand, and for heaven sakes use whatever Tae Kwon Do you remember. I'll be happy to work with you on that in the future when I can move again."

He was a good student because the next round he gave as good as he took.

"Wow Jason, did you just wake up?" Tank asked.

"No, I talked with my coach," he said pointing to me.

Very soon thereafter I was upgrading the Merry Men's skills on the mats.

'You need to get Stephanie in here," Bobby said.

"She doesn't work out?" I asked.

"Stephanie doesn't do gyms," Cal said.

"Does she work out on the range?"

That brought a few guffaws, "No, she's afraid of guns. She keeps the one Ranger gave her in her cookie jar at home."

I had the "what the hell look. "How does she do her apprehensions?"

"She goes after mostly lower bonds. If she gets in trouble, she calls us," Hal said.

I shook my head, "She needs a different job before she ends up dead."

"Actually she's very clever and resilient; her cars blow up, she's been thrown off a bridge into the river, locked in caskets and freezer lockers, covered in garbage, faced down guys with guns with only her smile and was almost buried in concrete. She bounces back immediately."

"Yeah, because Ranger saves her," somebody said.

"Not from the cement, that was Joe that who dragged her out." Ram replied.

"Why does Ranger save her?" I asked.

He's her mentor or was. Initially he was trying to teach her apprehensions but then he got emotionally involved. Idiot loves her but can't take the next step with her. A bunch of us would love for him to step back away and give us a chance. She's the type you bring home to mother. Heck I even think Lester here would change his gad-about ways for her," Ram said.

"Yeah," Lester said, "My cousin is an idiot. He's going to ruin for all of us. She's likely to go back to that jerk Morelli."

Hector spat, "Pendejo." (MF)

As promised, Tank asked which Rangeman wanted to help with my children's mixed martial arts class. I was astounded at the number. Each class was limited to 15 children and I had nearly that many wanting to help.

Initially I brought smaller Rangeman men so as not to frighten the kids. Instead of Tank, Cal and Hal I asked Lester, Bink, Jason the new guy and Garcia. I also asked Stephanie to come.

I was still pretty useless; I let the Rangeman men do the physical actions. They also were good instructors.

Lester asked, "What would you do if a man grabbed you?"

The girl about 8 said, "Kick him in the nuts."

Everyone laughed.

"No, that's not a good plan, let me demonstrate and he went on the show them at 8 they still were too short for such a move. Even punching may not be effective unless delivered with extreme force; otherwise it just infuriates the man making him more dangerous. Let me demonstrate, "Stephanie would you please be my partner?"

"Ah Lester I don't want to hurt you," she whispered.

"Go ahead Bomber, take your best shot, I'm wearing a cup."

Stephanie started into the movement but Lester swiveled, took the hit on his hip and at the same time grabbed Stephanie's leg and took her down to the mats. He had her down and pinned in three seconds. Every eye in the class was wide open as well as Stephanie's.

"That's why we want you to train Bomber," he whispered as he helped her up. "You've been lucky, so far."

"But you were expecting it," she said as she again tried to knee Lester. Once again she was on her back.

I looked to the back of the class and noticed the mothers were suddenly much more interested in the class. OK, the nice muscles up front helped, but they too thought throwing a groin shot would be sufficient to protect them.

Bink asked the child who was swift to mention a groin kick to step up and be a kidnap victim. The sassy eight year old came forward and Bink looked to the back of the room where the mothers sat. "Just a warning mother," he started, "I'm only demonstrating and introducing a deterrent technique."

Turning to the child he said, "First, I'm going to try to throw my hands around you, you take both of your arms and push them up fast, hard to knock my arms away. Once the child realized she could hit harder, she knocked the arms away."

Bink continued, "The second step is not to run because the adult has longer legs and can catch you. The second step is to grab one of his legs, slide down as low as possible, and hang on tight. While there, scream bloody murder," Bink instructed. Suddenly Bink was wearing a size 8 year old child for a boot and was effectively immobilized or at least slowed down.

The physical fitness part came next. The instructors were expected to participate as well as the kids; running, sit-ups, push-ups or a fact simile, but also tumbling.

"In there Plum" I yelled as she had found a quiet corner to watch. Begrudgingly she joined in with the physical conditioning. I quickly saw she needed more work.

The kids loved rolling across the mats with the men. They laughed as the men got competitive with one another doing clap pushups, one arm pushups or kid-weighted pushups. From the fitness we moved into elemental kicking and punching with Jason as the leader.

As the kids cooled off, Bink and Garcia were great instructors in bully deterrent and situational awareness. They had worked up several scenarios they acted out. The two hour class went three hours and nobody complained. Everyone present, including the instructors said, "Next week can't come fast enough."

"How did it go?" Tank asked as I walked into Tank's home office.

"Your guys are naturals. Kids loved them, the mother's drooled. Next class will be live shooter instruction. I've got to keep the kids from hiding under desks when a live shooter is present. Schools still teach that…..it's like shooting fish in a barrel.

Tank nodded, "Are you teaching 'swarm?"

I shook my head.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

I had heard about Stephanie in action, but never expected to see it firsthand. With a portion of the money she earned looking after me she decided she needed several new outfits and asked if I wanted to come to Quaker Bridge mall. I agreed, it would be another place to walk, plus I might be able to find new clothes, underwear at least. Instead of her POS car, I offered my Jeep which was quickly accepted.

We shopped until we dropped; she shopped, I dropped, often as I was still weak and in pain. Lunch was at the food court though my selections were limited.

"You really do eat like Ranger," she said.

"Did I miss the bark on the menu?" I asked as I ate my grilled chicken Kabob and garden salad, no dressing.

"Do you ever find clothing in places like this?" She asked.

"Rarely in women's sections; the tall sections are often not tall enough. Men's department may have long enough jeans and t-shirts. As a result I live in shorts and t-shirts most of the year or jeans. Formal attire, I had only a couple of outfits, now they are gone. "

"Shoes?"

"Women's 14, they are available, often in cross dresser stores," I said laughing. Meet some strange but fun people there."

"I should introduce you to Sally, I bet he'd have some clothes for you," she said.

I raised a gradually thickening eyebrow, "I'd like that. Somebody to trade clothes." I was only half kidding.

After I slid into the passenger seat and began buckling my seat belt, Stephanie threw her purchases behind the driver's seat. As she went to angle into the driver's seat somebody dashed from a car, rammed into her forcing her to the ground and grabbed her messenger bag.

She pulled herself off the ground, ran back to catch a glimpse of the purse snatchers but only saw tail lights. I hadn't been able to see a license plate but suspected the car was a Hyundai. Casually as if this happens often she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her cell. Thankfully she had slipped that into her jacket earlier.

When Jake answered the phone at Rangeman she said, "Somebody grabbed my messenger bag, can you track it?"

"10-4 Steph, I'll transfer you to Manuel."

The phone was set to speaker. Manuel came onto the line, "Your bag is headed across highway 1 to the Mercer Mall. Want us to put a stop on your credit card?"

"Yeah, you have the info. Report the last purchases were at Macy's, 20 minutes ago. I'm headed over to the mall now; let's see if we can zero in."

She was calm but pissed. "Does this happen often?" I asked.

She thought for a minute, "Shit happens, but this particular type might be a first."

This was a battle hardened woman. She was not nervous, excessively mad; she was….committed to finding her purse.

Manuel's voice came over the phone, "We've alerted mall security, be careful. I'll see who is the nearest to your location."

"This is going to be a crap shoot," Stephanie said. "I never saw their car."

"White coupe, possible a Hunyadi," I said.

"Thanks," she nodded, "that should help."

"South side'" Manuel reported.

As she drove around the southern side of this giant strip mall we both knew exactly where the thieves were heading, "Hooterville" bar and restaurant.

"You going to call for backup" I asked.

The phone was still on speaker and I heard, "Cal is on his way, he's seven minutes out."

"We should go in and look around," she said.

"Only to determine exits and possibly spot the purse, you should not engage until you have back up." I urged. She looked at me like I was a coward or crazy.

As the two of us entered the restaurant, Manuel confirmed we were getting closer to the bag.

Inside the front door at the hostess station stood an average size man. He's probably the manager, not a bouncer. Then I saw the bartender, there was the muscle.

"You two here to apply for a position?" He leered. The chicken kabob soured in my stomach.

Steph looked down at her chest and laughed, "Not qualified."

"Oh sweetie, you'd be surprised what a good push up and pads will do. Anyway with those eyes and those lovely long legs, guys probably won't be interested in your…hooters."

I don't know if Stephanie rolled her eyes, but mine were twitching. I remained mute. The guy looked at me, "And you? You seem to be qualified in the hardware department."

"Recovering," I said moving my arm in the sling a bit.

"I've never seen an real amazon. Baby I hope you heal soon," he smiled."

"No you don't," I answered.

We heard a little laugh on Stephanie's phone and realized the phone was still on and Manual was listening. I hoped he wasn't recording.

Stephanie continued, "We are looking for someone or several who recently came in, perhaps carrying a messenger bag; stolen designer leather messenger bag."

"Sorry babe, I'm not watching purses when they come in."

Stephanie bristled, "A man may be carrying it. The bags are versatile."

"First of all, I don't look over the men and second, a real man wouldn't be here with purse."

I smiled to myself, he's probably right, he's not looking at men and no true gentleman would not be in a place like this.

Stephanie raised her phone a bit, "Manual how precise can you track my bag?"

The manager raised his eyebrows, this was new.

"Stephanie we have multiple readings. One is outside in the parking lot, inside; turn north east, 30 feet. If you hold on, Cal is 3 out."

Stephanie spotted her bag sitting between a medium skin woman with fluorescent strawberry red hair and a man, 6' but skinny, white with brown.

Stephanie whispered, "Do you think they are carrying?"

"The guy, probably, strawberry short cake, 50:50...maybe in your bag," I replied emphasizing "your" for the idiot at the hostess station..

We had yet to decide if we'd get a closer look at the bag when the couple spotted Stephanie, panicked and began scooting out of their booth. Stephanie dashed across the restaurant, but the table filled with beer glasses and food was between her and the messenger bag. Sliding face first, she cruised over the table and grabbed the bag and the strawberry red head. Beer and tater tots dressed in sour cream and cheese splattered across her blouse. A fast reacting waitress who did not want to be out of her check and tip joined in the fray.

The skinny ass guy was going for an emergency door in back and I headed back. Before he could open the door I had him down on the floor under control. A 9mm was under his belt in back.

Steph was trying to get her purse, but the waitress was working over the red head while at the same time falling out of her bra, no enhancements necessary. The red head who was kicking, biting and generally trying to hang onto the bag did not realize her blouse had been torn open exposing a very sexy but small red bra, more like a string with patches.

"It's my purse," insisted the red head.

Stephan countered, "No, it's my messenger bag."

"You aren't skipping out on my table," insisted the waitress.

Of course there were more than a few expletives being thrown around as well as punches. I watched the mayhem while holding the skinny ass man face down with his arm pulled back and twisted and a thumb lock for added force. Women need to learn how to fight, this was embarrassing to watch. Still Stephanie could take a punch as well as deliver one. The predominately male customer base rose to their feet to watch the entertainment. Thankfully I was tucked back in an alcove out of direct view.

The bartender never left his position, guess he wasn't security.

Cal came in the door with mall security. He went to Stephanie, picked her and the messenger out of the fray and held on to the strawberry redhead. When the red head turned on Cal, she found herself face down on what was left of the tater tots and beer on the table. The security guy came back to me, relieved the man of his gun and handcuffed him.

The contents of Steph's purse were missing. If it hadn't been for the tracker inside the lining indicating ownership, Steph and I could have been brought up on assault charges…..and still might be. It took while to obtain a search warrant for the individuals' car where the second tracker continually indicated its presence. When the police opened the car, Stephanie's empty wallet except for the hidden pocket with her business cards, FTA papers, and handcuffs had been thrown on the floor. A search of the glove box brought credit cards, driver's licenses and Social Security cards from at least 20 individuals including Stephanie; a nice day's harvest for theives. A later search of the couple's hotel room showed a sophisticated operation of ID theft and fraud.

The couple was arrested, Stephanie got her purse and papers back, but the waitress was still out of her bill. The other patrons in the restaurant chipped in and covered the expense in appreciation of the floor show as well as threatening the manager not to fire the fiery waitress. One patron suggested Stephanie and the waitress might be a good tag team for women's wrestling. When the manager looked at me, I muttered, "Don't even go there."

The police were not interested in investigating Stephanie's assault or my unlawful detainment. They were giddy with the ID theft and fraud. The whole incident was pretty well hidden in the newspapers other than to indicate an ID theft ring had been busted. There was not mention of the Bombastic Bounty Hunter covered in beer, cheese, and sour cream. Stephanie said we were outside of Trenton and the Burg. Still, did I submit a report to my commanding officer as to my participation.

For several days after the Hooterville incident, Stephanie's Merry Men took every opportunity to present her with plates of tater tots which she mysteriously turned down. They were confused. She had seemed more and more out of sorts the longer Ranger was away.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Stephanie POV

Bobby and Efrosyni were in the middle of flexibility therapy when I came into the gym. The major was glowing from sweat and kept her mouth in a hard position; she was hurting but didn't moan or whimper. I'm not sure I'd be able to push myself like she could. The few times Bobby has helped me with minor problems, I've been a whimp. The major looked up and noticed me, winked and said something to Bobby.

Bobby looked over at me. "Something you need Bomber?"

"Bobby, when you've got time, I need to speak to you."

"My office in 10 minutes." Turning back to Efrosyni he said, "Continue another rep, hydrate and then grab a sandwich and fruit. Rest 2 hours in Ranger's office then come back and ride the bike until Tank is ready to leave. See you tomorrow."

When Bobby and I stepped into Bobby's office, he shut the door after first sliding the placard on the door to "In Treatment" informing others to come back later.

"What is it Stephanie?"

"No way to beat around the bush, Bobby, I'm pretty sure I'm pregnant."

"Have you used any home tests?"

"Yes, twice, both positive."

Bobby winced, "We are just starting to hear about women being pregnant even though their shots should still be active. I'll check your records. Dang, I'm sorry Stephanie." He sat at his computer, called up her medical records and then compared them to the most recent medical news release. He shook his head, "Yeah, your batch is one listed as being faulty. Any idea how far along you may be?"

"Seven weeks, when Ranger left."

He looked at the vaccination date, "The shot failed totally for you." Bobby shook his head. "Let's take the blood test to confirm and if it is positive we'll need to get you in for an ultra sound."

"Isn't it too early?"

"No, there are different types of ultrasounds. I'll set up an appointment with an OBGYN, I don't have the equipment. Not a lot of call for gynecological equipment here."

My tests came back positive and indeed I was seven weeks pregnant. The father had to be Ranger. Joe had been out of town with a new job since early November. I was planning to join him once he was settled. I still love Ranger but I can't wait any longer for him to end his government missions and get his Karma together. Ranger will continue his government contract jobs until he was killed or too old to continue. Who knew how long that would be? My life is stalled and I need to move on and away; away from Vincent Plum Bail Bonds, away from my mother, away from the Burg. But, now I am pregnant with Ranger's child. Where does that leave me? Not with Joe, that's for sure.

After dressing, Dr. Carole Berk and I talked. "Stephanie, I know it's no consolation, but you are the sixth woman locally to be pregnant from this batch of birth control. You need to think about your options as this is an unplanned pregnancy."

I was numb. I left the gynecologists' office with prenatal pills and several booklets including pregnancy, abortion and adoption options.

"Just your luck Plum," I sobbed. I looked around my apartment. Was this the source of my problems? As Lula would say, "Maybe it's bad juju." I sat and stared. Yes, I could see them, Benito Ramierez's manager who I shot and killed in the kitchen and Ranger's crazy Army buddy who blew himself up in the entry hall. I could see Ranger coming through the front door with his hands raised knowing he would be shot as he attempted to save his daughter Julie and me from the kidnapper. I thought of the newish couch I was sitting on after the old one was contaminated by death cooties from the sawed in half man. The walls were somewhat freshly painted after being smoke damaged, blood splattered, or covered in graffiti.

My phone rang. My mother was calling to ask if I was coming for dinner. Was it Friday already?

"Stephanie, it's your mother. Are you and Joe coming for dinner?"

"Not tonight Mom, I'm exhausted. Joe is still out of town. Thanks for the invitation." Joe hadn't told his family as he was moving; he said he'd be "away" for a while. Everyone assumed he was on another undercover operation.

Efrosyni POV

The following week Stephanie sat at the table in the break area on the Rangeman 5th floor nursing a bottle of water. I sat down slowly next to her. My ribs and hip were still bothersome. You look distracted Stephanie."

"Major, I need some advice and don't know where to turn."

I sat silently and waited. Stephanie looked up, "Do you have time to talk?"

"I have an hour before I see Bobby, will that be enough?"

"It's a start. I need privacy, follow me."

We went up to the 7th floor to a private apartment. "Is this yours?" I asked. The apartment was professionally decorated in neutral tones but lacked personal touches.

"No it belongs to Ranger. It's also the scene of the crime," she giggled nervously.

I looked for someplace I could sit comfortably. "Crime?" I asked as I settled onto a dining room chair.

"Major, I'm pregnant. My birth control shot failed big time."

What type I wondered. I always kept up on mine even though I was celibate. What if Tank and I become intimate? I shook the thought of me getting pregnant off. "I suspected."

Her eyes got big, "You did? How?"

"Your jeans aren't fitting the same as before, you've got a bump you didn't have before, you aren't drinking coffee, you are having a hard time eating, and you are staring off into space and sighing more frequently."

"Geez, does anybody else know?"

"I assume your panicked looked last week in the gym means Bobby is in on the secret."

"Do you miss anything?"

"Not much. OK, you are pregnant and I'm assuming since this is the scene of the crime, Ranger is the father."

"Yes."

"And he's away and doesn't know."

"He's totally dark."

I found it interesting she was using military terms. Remembering our conversation at Tank's house, I asked, "So you are worried about your family's reaction?"

She began pacing, "After my divorce from Dickie Orr my mother insists I remarry. While Joe was not her first choice, she is now desperate..."

'Whoa, hold on, your mother is desperate? What about you?" I asked.

"It doesn't matter..." she shrugged.

"If this is going where I think it is it most surely does matter. But go on..."

"As I told, you Joe left more than 3 months ago. He has a new job in another city, St. Louis, but its secret for a while. His family, the Burg, most of Trenton police thinks he's temporarily away and will be back. I've been waiting for him to come back so we could finalize plans for me to join him and marry. That way we'd be away from the Burg, his family, my family, the rumor mill…."

"And Ranger," I added.

Her shoulders sagged, "Yeah, he's not going to change."

"Being pregnant by Ranger is a problem."

"Obviously," she snapped back.

"Is there a problem with carrying Ranger's baby - other than for Joe?"

"My mother is...prejudice."

"Prejudice how?"

"Racially, ethnically, sexually, religiously."

"And Ranger is Latino. Is he dark like was my mother?"

"A little lighter than you."

I raised my little eyebrow stubble, "How about your father and grandmother?"

"They are not at all like my mother, but even with their support, I can't stay in the Burg with the rumor mill. I can't hide for 8 months. What if Ranger doesn't want the baby?"

I sighed, "You know Ranger doesn't want children?"

"He already has one which he admits was a mistake, though now he loves his daughter. He says he doesn't want more. His life is too dangerous."

"Does the daughter live here?" I asked.

"Julie is in Miami with her mother and stepfather."

"So, Ranger doesn't want more children. Where was the condom? Why didn't he get a vasectomy?"

"Huh?"

"If you are serious about not having children, more than one contraceptive is smart for the very reason you are where you are now. Nothing is perfect. Is he interested in marrying you?"

"No, he's not into commitment either."

"Do you want to get married?" I asked.

"I'm in love with the idea of marriage and a happy life," she said with a big sigh.

"The fact you continued with the relationship knowing he wouldn't marry you, what were you thinking?"

"Huh?"

"You keep banging a guy you know won't marry you but hoping he would. Why? Do you enjoy throwing yourself against walls? He must be some prize in bed."

She looked at me, "I thought you were celibate."

"I'm celibate but not a nun, remember."

"So you look?"

Laughing I said, "I'm not dead. There's a lot to look at in the Army. There's a lot to look at here at Rangeman." So far only Bobby suspected there might be more between Tank and I other than house mates. Well, maybe Lester too but everything in that man's mind revolves around sex.

She smiled, slightly.

"What do you want Stephanie? Do you want to continue to run your own life, screw who you want, but live like a pauper? Do you want marriage and children and a hoped for loving husband? Do you want to continue putting yourself at risk every day for the adrenaline rush? Or do you want to be a woman who stands up for herself, has respect and a supporting job?"

"I don't know…"

"You are not 20 years old, you are much closer to 40 years old than a sweet young thing. This is the age you should be working on your retirement savings, not living hand to mouth."

"I know…"

"So why are you thinking like a clueless and uncontrolled adolescent? You've seen the world, there is no magic rainbow. WHAT DO YOU WANT AND HOW DO YOU PLAN TO GET IT?"

"I want Ranger permanently, not his occasional bed buddy! I want to be….his wife." She screamed.

"You want to marry a guy who may die tomorrow? What are you, a masochist? "

She put her hands alongside her head, "I know, I know."

"Or are you a gold-digger going after his money?"

Her head snapped up, "WHAT, NO WAY! I love Ranger. I did not purposely get pregnant. She moaned, "I've just rolled in another pile of ..."

I hated to be so sharp, but she was going into self-pity, "STOP IT! Stephanie, listen, you get five more minutes of self-pity, and then it's over! The deed is done. You need to turn your 'poor me' crap into action. Now WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?"

Stephanie looked at me and moaned, "I don't know….."

"Snap out of it lady!" I bellowed and winced in pain from my broken ribs. I was in my Ft. Dix Bitch mode. "Lady, if I hear one more 'I don't know," I'm out of here."

Her mouth flew open. Good, snapped her out of self-pity. She is probably on the brink of hating me, but she is listening.

I sighed, "OK, let's start with the basics. Number one, keep or don't keep the fetus."

"I can't abort it. I'm Catholic."

I raised the eyebrow again and scowled at her, not a practicing Catholic with two men at the same time. "Good, abortion is hard on your psyche, soul and would probably ruin your relationship with your family and probably Ranger if he found."

She nodded.

"Number two, if you carry to term do you keep the baby and raise it or do you give it up for adoption?"

"I'll keep it for the same reason you mention, it would ruin my relationship with my family and Ranger," she answered.

"You assume when he finds out he will want a relationship with you and the child."

"He's supporting his daughter, Julie, even though he signed away his parental rights due to his military commitment."

"That doesn't mean he wants a relationship, he might just feel obligated. Are you sure your keeping the baby wouldn't be a ploy to win him back?"

She looked at me suspiciously.

"Did you do this on purpose Stephanie to force Ranger to marry you?"

"Of course not, the vaccination failed, I told you."

Good, she was thinking again.

"What if Ranger is killed on this mission, would you keep the child?"

"Yes, of course."

"Number three: Can you live here in the Burg being an unmarried mother?"

"No. I'm already on the Burg's top ten list for rumor material; I'd replace Joyce Barnhardt as the #1 skank."

"You said your sister was an unmarried mother, did the Burg condemn her?"

"No, she was always the princess. They figured it was a temporary situation. She returned to the Burg, she was dating and living with someone from the Burg and he is white."

I sighed. Does it ever stop? I continued, "Do you have friends or relative you go could live with?"

"No, my relatives are mainly here and I've never had close friends outside of Trenton."

"Do you have the means to support a child and yourself for the next 22 years?"

I saw her gasp. She finally realized a baby is a long term commitment. In addition to caring for herself, she now had a dependent who needed feeding, clothing, medical, dental, eye care, braces, education, and so on. A baby wasn't a hamster.

"I do have a degree in business..."

"Good, so we are back to where you'll live. I've got a condo in Columbus Georgia outside Ft. Benning. You can stay there until you become self-sufficient, acquiring a supporting job somewhere other than Trenton. This is not long term housing. I need the condo by the end of the year. I can help out a little bit with money, but I will not support you. There is no reason a woman with your education and intelligence cannot support herself and a child."

"What will I do?"

"That's your assignment. You've have a business degree and 7 months to determine how you will take care of yourself and your child. You have been employed since graduation, and you should be able to find a job somewhere. It won't be as exciting as bond apprehension, in fact it might be quite dull, but you need to remain safe for your child plus earn enough to live. It's grow-up time."

I could see she wanted to cry. "You've used up your last five minutes of self-pity. You are not the first to have to make these decisions. Your life won't be easy; everything you do from now on will reflect upon your child. Your days of living the _La Vida Loca_ are over. Boyfriends who you think would never hurt a child, end up molesting or killing them. Your main responsibility is your child's safety, health and education. Mama Bears fight to protect their cubs; you are now a Mama Bear. Be smart."

Her head was nodding. I think she understood.

"Now, let's revisit your mother issue, briefly. Your mother's insistence on you getting married is her trying to protect you. Motherhood never ends. She wants you safe, but in her life experience that means marriage and safety within the Burg. You hitched yourself to a man who cannot or will not fulfill the role of husband/father, Ranger. Now you must choose a different route, but the results are the same, safety and security for you and your child."

"I don't know if I can do it," Stephanie wept.

"Then get an abortion or adopt out the baby. We have enough crappy mothers in the world who do not protect their child and even worse, willing put them in danger," I snapped back.

Her head popped up and horror crossed her face.

"Stephanie, I would much rather defuse a bomb in an active mine field under bombardment than go through what you will have to do. You were not expecting this. I understand. I had a completely different life planned for myself. Neither of my parents saw me as a soldier. My father is probably rolling in his grave. I had other aspirations, but ...they were lost. I had to move on and make new goals. Just as you now do.

When it became obvious I was in a dead end or even suicidal occupation, I worked hard in training, disciplining myself to go beyond what I felt I could do. We all have a deep reservoir of untapped resources within us. The key is to want to find it, develop it and use it wisely. From what I've seen, you have far more talent, intelligence and drive than you give yourself credit. What you lack is discipline and belief in yourself."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 **Sorry guys about posting Chapter 3 over again! Lousy eyes**

Stephanie was still undecided about taking the major's offer of the condo in Georgia and delayed another week thinking nine weeks pregnant on her slim figure wasn't obvious. She hadn't stopped by her parent's home for a while. Just in case she found her loosest t-shirt and left it over the top of her jeans. The ploy didn't work.

The moment she walked into the door her mother screamed, "Stephanie Michelle Plum you are pregnant! When are you and Joe getting married? I haven't seen Joe in a while; he must come for dinner tonight. I'll call Valerie."

"Mom, STOP!" Stephanie yelled. Steph froze; she realized she hadn't raised her force to her mother in 20 years. Was the major responsible for putting some backbone in her? Or was it pregnancy hormones? "Joe and I are not getting married."

"You have to. You are pregnant! You'll be living together full time now in Joseph's house."

"No, mom, we are not going to be living together."

"Surely you aren't going to wait for the wedding to move in. What hypocrisy that would be. Stephanie you are pregnant. You need some place safe. You can't live in that horrible apartment where people break in and cause mayhem.

Mayhem, Stephanie throught. What's a few rocket powered grenades, fires, explosions, gun fire, and dead bodies?

"I don't think Joe will want this baby," she said.

Why? Is there something wrong with the baby? It is deformed, have you been drinking and using drugs while pregnant? Of course he will want the baby.

"It isn't Joe's." Stephanie whispered. She was falling back to being submissive.

"What? Are you are cheating on Joe? After all he has done for you."

Stephanie stopped. What has Joe done for me? He fingered me when I was 6, took my virginity at 16 and wrote about it on stadium walls and men's' restrooms, and wanted to marry for sex on demand instead of scrounging around town. In between he has demeaned me, berated me, rarely helped me with my job, but he is pretty good in bed if you consider speed and recovery important. Most of all he has asked her to marry him.

"Joe has been trying to get you to marry him for several years now, but you have to go and spread your legs for someone else. Stephanie Michelle Plum, you slut! You are no better than that black whore you hang around with, Lulu."

"Lula."

You will marry Joe and tell him the baby is his. You will not bring another dishonor into our house by bringing home a bastard."

Stephanie gulped. How many decades ago was the b-word found to be crude and judgmental on an innocent baby?

"The father is one of those thugs at Rangeman isn't it? Please tell me it isn't that big black thug."

Stephanie wondered which black man she was referring. Rangeman employees ran the gamut from blond blue eyed Hal to darker Tank and everything in between. Anything less than pure white or slightly seasoned Mediterranean like Joe was considered black.

Her mother threw her hand to her throat. "Stephanie Plum are you supporting yourself by being a whore to those thugs? Is that what you mean by you work there?"

Stephanie stood with her mouth open. What had happened to her mother? "NO! She screamed. "They are gentlemen. They are big and muscular for their work, they are not thugs. They respect me, they would never touch me!"

"Did they gang rape you?" Helen spat. She was oblivious to everything Stephanie was telling her.

Whoa! Where did that come from? "NO, they've never touched me."

"You probably asked for it just like when you were 16 working at the bakery. You've always been a slut."

Was it the booze? Her mother always tippled, but over the past few years she was drinking more and more. Was it menopause? Surely a hormonal change would not drive her mother this far. Was her mother losing her mind? Her mother was always judgmental, but this was over the top. Stephanie couldn't bring herself to tell her mother Ranger was the father for fear of what her mother would say against him.

Stephanie felt gutted, drawn and quartered by this crazy woman. The mother/daughter love bond was shattered. Valerie was the princess who could do no wrong, Stephanie was the disappointment. She was the daughter to be complained about to anyone who would listen; divorced her attorney husband, lost her job at E.E. Martin, works for the despicable Vincent Plum as a bounty hunter, carries a gun, shoots people, burns down buildings, blows up cars, and now is a whore. The only thing to do was to turn around and walk out the door, probably permanently. If it takes a village to raise a child, that same village can also destroy a child or woman.

Grandma Mazur came running after Stephanie and threw her arms around her granddaughter, "Is it Ranger's?"

"Yes, Grandma."

"Are you going to marry him? He's a fine man." Unlike her daughter, Edna had no prejudices as to color or nationality. Grandma Mazur liked Ranger, mainly for his physique including his package but also recognized Ranger's care for her granddaughter. Edna was the first to recognize Dickie Orr was a horse's pahtoot and recently began looking at Joe with concerned eyes.

"He's working for the government overseas. He doesn't know." There was no way Stephanie could mention the Army and contracts.

"He will be thrilled when he comes back."

She wanted to say IF he comes back. "Grandma, what if he doesn't want a child?"

Grandma Mazur rolled her dentures around her mouth. "Ranger is not a thug, he is an honorable person no matter what you mother says. He will want his child and you."

"Thank you Grandma, that helps."

"You didn't do this on purpose did you?"

"No, no, no. The birth control shot failed big time. Other women in town are showing up pregnant too."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know..." The major wouldn't be pleased with her response.

She thought a moment, "What about Joseph, you could marry him."

"No way! Simple math and he'd figure out it wasn't his and he hates Ranger, no way he'd accept Ranger's baby as his own." Stephanie walked to her POS and drove away from her parent's home, probably for the last time.

On her way home she stopped at Tasty Pastry to settle her nerves. Some people drink, others smoke various substances, the guys at Rangeman beat the crap out of a punching bag or one another, Stephanie goes straight for the gluten and sugar. If possible crème doughnuts but right now she didn't care, even a blueberry muffin would be fine. Grandma Bella, Joseph's grandmother and her personal nemesis was inside buying bread. Before Stephanie could turn and retreat, Bella spied Stephanie's tiny baby bump and pregnancy glow she screamed, "Finally Joseph has put a baby in you! It's a pity he wasted his seed on such trash. There will be a wedding and soon. We can say the baby was born premature. That way we keep Joseph's honor."

Stephanie wanted to run but her legs wouldn't move.

Bella lowered her voice and continued, "You have no honor to keep, you _puttana;._ You who keep two men's bed warm. You are no better than….. _excrementi de cane_."

Stephanie heard bells in her head and before the bakery shrunk to the side of a pea, she passed out. When she regained consciousness the paramedics were on the scene. Kathy Kalinsky from the bakery told the paramedics Stephanie was pregnant and on lookers were quick to start the news around town. Before Stephanie got back on her feet the Burg knew Stephanie was pregnant by Joe.

Joseph hadn't been seen since the end of October and Stephanie was surely not 17 weeks pregnant, she barely had a bump at 9 weeks. The Burg expects Joe and Stephanie to marry, raise a new generation of Morellis and that was what was going to happen.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 **Efrosyni POV**

It was about 1300 hours. I had been in the Rangeman gym since 0800. Bobby had set up a new flexibility routine and once again cautioned me about using the equipment. He knew I was anxious to work on rebuilding muscle. "Your injuries aren't ready for the stress. Stay off all but the bicycle and no hand weights."

So it was the bicycle, ball and floor work to keep me busy. I learned not to nap on the mats least it cause another medical alert from the guy monitoring the gym on the 5th floor. Rests were to be taken in Ranger's office couch, though the mats were more comfortable, they were longer.

I was busy spinning on the bike, ear buds in place as I listened to a foreign language book. At least I could keep my mind exercised. When I looked up Stephane was standing before me pale white, eyes red from crying and hyperventilating. I climbed off the bike and held her head down and told her to push against my hand. When her breathing slowed she lifted her head and squeaked, "Help."

"What has happened?" I asked. I suspected I already knew.

"It's all over the Burg, Joe's grandmother, the ' _strega_ ' (witch) is telling everyone I am pregnant. She is insisting Joe and I get married immediately to maintain Joe's honor. I'm used to her calling me names but this time she got vulgar and called me a whore….dog shit."

"What is your mother saying?"

"She called me slut and a Rangeman whore. She asked if the Rangeman men gang raped me." Stephanie collapsed onto the floor and began weeping. "My own mother…"

"People surely people don't believe her do they?" So much for motherly love.

"Enough will. The Burg lives on gossip." She wept. "What have I done to Rangeman? What will Ranger and the guys think? Oh what have I done to my friends?"

"You want my place in Georgia?"

"Please, I need to get away right now. I wish I had gone earlier. I didn't think..."

I wanted to chew more ass. She didn't "think!" If I noticed her condition, surely her mother would. Instead she went parading around town.

I took a calming breath, "I'll get things started. Go home, pack clothes and anything small you wish to keep. The rest will remain in the apartment for the landlord to sell or toss. Tell landlord you are leaving by Saturday. Close up your accounts, leave your phone, you probably know what needs to be done. Clean sweep, Come back here today, do not wait until tomorrow. Your delay has already caused problems. I'll have the condo key. Bring the car and papers. I'll sell it or junk it."

"Why not tell Dillon I'm leaving immediately?"

"The more confusion here the longer you have time to clear the area."

"What about Rex?

"Who or what is Rex?"

"My hamster."

"Bring him here." What was I going to do with a hamster?

"No pets at Rangman," she countered.

"Not your concern but mine." This deal would not fall apart on account of a hamster.

When Stephanie left, I sweet talked Lester into driving me to the Army credit union. Several hours later she was on her way to Georgia with two large suitcases, $15,000 in cash along with keys and codes to the condo.

#######

I wanted to give Stephanie a twenty four hour head start, but Helen Plum's accusation regarding Rangeman had to be dealt with immediately.

I headed up to the 5th floor, Tank's office and knocked.

"Enter," came the booming voice I enjoyed hearing.

I entered and shut the door, but before I spoke he said, "Give me a few minutes, then we can head home."

Could I delay this until we got home? I decided not. "You've got problems."

He looked up confused, "Problems?"

"It concerns Rangeman."

I moved to the chair in front of his desk and lowered myself slowly. "Stephanie is pregnant and her mother thinks she was gang raped by the guys here at Rangeman."

Instead of jumping up and shouting an expletive, he turned to stone. He was waiting for more information.

"Go on," he said without emotion.

"She is pregnant by Ranger on his last night here. When Stephanie told her mother it wasn't Joe's, her mother began ranting about Stephanie being a slut and a whore for Rangeman asking if the guys here gang raped her. Next she ran into Joe's grandmother who also called her more names and insisted a wedding would soon occur to retain Joe's honor."

Tank remained quiet and then quietly said, "I need to contact our attorney and shut this down. Bella is crazy, but there's something wrong with Helen. I thought it was the drinking; now I'm not sure it isn't something more."

I nodded and started to get up.

"Where is Stephanie?" He asked.

"She has left town. Her mother gutted her. I gave her some money so she can find a place to live and deal with this away from the Burg."

"She should have come to me."

"She's horrified she has damaged Rangeman and hurt the men."

"Not if we can shut up Helen."

"Tank, Stephanie may be in her 30's, but emotionally she's an over sexed adolescent. Her self-esteem on a good day is low, now it's dragging bottom. If she is ever to grow up and take responsibility for her life, learn how to make intelligent decisions, she has to get away from her family and the Burg. She needs time, a safe place until she and Ranger can work this out."

Tank slumped. "That may not happen. Ranger has been captured and may already be dead."

"Where?" I knew some places were worse than others.

"I wasn't told. In times past we'd be part of a rescue team, but not this time. Only Lester and Ranger remain under contract and they have already told me Lester will not be called."

I got up. "Call your attorney," I said softly. "I'll be next door."

I went into Ranger's office and found a chair. I prayed Stephanie would make it safely to my condo and Tank's best friend, Ranger, would survive, somehow.

 **Tank's POV**

When Frosyni left I immediately called our attorney. He jumped on a restraining order against Mrs. Plum and family and had it in their hands by dinner, but the damage was done. Already I was receiving texts from the men asking what was going on regarding Stephanie and Rangeman. I sent out a company-wide memo for an "all hands on deck" meeting at 0700 in the Rangeman gym. Only those on monitor duty were excused.

The next morning the gym was packed. Judging from the looks on the men's faces, they were confused and devastated. When all were present including the Rangeman attorney I began by calling everyone to attention. We are not military, but a vast majority of the employees were and they immediate became silent and attentive.

"Gentlemen and Ella, what I'm about to tell you is totally in house. It does not go beyond this building and I'd appreciate if you keep the chatter between yourselves on this to a minimum. Stephanie has voluntarily left us, she has left Trenton, we do not know to where. She is pregnant by Ranger. She never had a chance to tell her mother Ranger is the father, before Helen went ballistic and started various accusations; the one about Rangeman gang raping Stephanie has the potential to destroy this company. Our attorney delivered a restraining order to the Plums last night, but the gossip has begun. Since Steph left without telling us, we are going to conduct a search as if we know nothing of her leaving. It will be a full investigation starting with her apartment this morning in case the police also become involved.

Stephanie is our family and we need to maintain her privacy. The Burg is a cesspool of lies and rumors. Let's not further the pollution. If someone asks where she is, answer truthfully she left suddenly without giving cause. Also say she did not leave a forwarding address—also true. I do not know where she went. You may say she was a valued and respected member of the Rangeman staff. If asked if she is pregnant, answer she left without notice or cause. If someone mentions gang rape do not get dragged into a confrontation. Simply say she was an employee. If asked about the relationship between her and Ranger, I expect you to stick to Rangeman's privacy rules.

Men, I know the accusation about Rangeman did not happen. You are honorable men otherwise you would not be employed here…..plus you know I'd kill you if you had harmed her. Now it's time for our attorney to speak."

* * *

Instantly the camaraderie among the men dropped. They were depressed and worried. As the weeks went on they heard all the Burg rumors but could not refute them. Some tales were outrageous insinuating Mob interference and vendettas and Stephanie was at the bottom of the Delaware or buried in the Pine Barrens. The Burg noticed Joseph was also missing and assumed more foul play or that he and Stephanie had eloped or shot each other in a lover's spat. Each week was a new fairy tale.

A month later Joseph Morelli returned to Trenton to find Stephanie and to tell his family he had moved to another city. Instead he found the Burg and his family in turmoil. Stephanie was pregnant and everyone believed Joe was the father. There had been rumors started by Mrs. Plum but her mother, Edna Mazur went all over town saying her daughter was an alcoholic and terribly drunk when she said what she said about Rangeman Security. Helen Plum hadn't been seen in weeks and when Edna, Frank or Valerie was questioned, they answered Helen was ill. Mrs. Mazur neither denied nor confirmed was Joe the father which allowed the rumor mill to continue believing it was Joe's baby. Of course Angie and Bella Morelli perpetuated the story. The question still remained, where was Stephanie?

When Joe asked his mother about Stephanie, Angie replied, "I haven't seen Stephanie for weeks; maybe she is having problems with morning sickness. I know Helen Plum is drinking more, maybe that's why she hasn't contacted us about wedding arrangements."

Joe hastened first to Stephanie's apartment and found it occupied by a Latino couple. He went to the bail bonds office but they were perplexed as well, "She just left, gave us no explanation. We didn't know she was pregnant." Finally he went to Rangeman. "I want to speak to Stephanie."

"Mr. Morelli, before you can proceed, please surrender your weapon," Bing demanded.

"I'm not a Trenton cop, you idiot, I'm not carrying."

"I will have to check sir." Bing grabbed a detection wand and moved towards Morelli.

Joe steamed, but complied by raising his arms out to the side.

"Thank you sir," Bing began. "As for Ms. Plum, she no longer works here. She left a month ago without giving cause or leaving a forwarding address."

"Let me speak to Ranger."

Ranger has been away since January first. We don't know when he's returning.

"Damnit, let me speak to that baboon Tank.

Bing held his cool, barely. He picked up the in-house phone.

"Talk," Tank barked into his phone.

"Sir, Front desk. Joe Morelli is here to see you. Do you have time?"

Tank sighed, "Not really but let's get this over with. I'll be down."

"You wanted to see me?" Tank said entering the Rangeman main lobby.

"Where the hell is Stephanie?" Joe exploded and rushed the fifty feet separating him from Tank. Tank didn't move, his massive frame absorbed Morelli's forward motion. Morelli was plastered to Tank's chest with garlic, tomato and beer on his breath.

Calmly, at least on the outside, Tank responded, "We don't know. She left suddenly several weeks ago, never telling us she was leaving. We are still looking for her. We feared something happened to her, but found out she voluntarily vacated her apartment, cancelled her phone, credit cards and closed her bank account, and junked her car. She knows enough about skip chasing to disappear without a trace."

"Did she run off with Ranger?"

"No, Ranger is working overseas and has been since January first."

"What about all the trackers that bastard kept on her, can't you find her?" Joe sneered.

Bing was standing behind Tank and touched his shoulder, stopping a vicious right hook into Morelli's face.

"She left them all behind in the apartment along with her cell phone."

"What is this about a baby?"

"As I told you, she left without notice and without cause. She said nothing about being pregnant."

"Is the baby yours?" Joe spat.

"No, Detective Morelli," Tank said between clenched teeth.

"Is it that bastard Ranger's?" Joe yelled.

"Detective Morelli, as I told you, Miss Plum left her employment here as search coordinator without giving us noticed or cause. We checked her apartment and talked to the building superintendent. There is nothing more I have to say to you." With that Tank turned and walked away.

Joe hesitated before he came after Tank who was listening carefully. Before Joe could lay a hand on him, Tank turned, put Joe into an arm lock and quick marched him outside the Rangeman door.

Turning to Bing Tank said, "Have Hector save that section of security footage in case we need it to prove I didn't smash his face in."

Joseph left swearing in two languages and drove to the Plum house. Helen Plum was trimming a chuck steak when she saw Morelli at the front door. Forgetting she was holding a knife, we ran towards the door screaming. He saw the knife and backed up into the front yard. He didn't have a weapon or police radio as he no longer worked for TPD. Instead he pulled his cell phone and dialed 911. Helen stormed out the door, knife out front, and started berating him for his treatment of Stephanie years ago, ruining her for any decent committed relationship, refusing to marry her after turning her into a whore. Joe never got a word in.

Eddie Gazarra was first to respond to the 911 call. Seeing the large butcher knife in Helen's hand and hearing the vitriol towards Joe, he pulled his weapon.

"Helen Plum, drop your knife and put your hands up," he ordered. Helen was completely out of control. Eddie prayed he wouldn't have to pull the trigger on his own aunt.

She ignored the order and continued moving towards Joe and screaming nearly incoherently. He noticed Joe had wisely moving towards the driver's door and would get into the car for protection. Helen had a sizeable knife, not a gun.

"Helen Plum, drop your weapon," Eddie ordered.

At least she stopped moving towards Joe. Suddenly as if her mind cleared she saw Eddie with his weapon drawn towards her and looked at the knife in her hand. Dropping the knife as if it was a burning iron, she turned and ran back into the house and slammed the door.

Joe shook his head at Eddie then completely ignoring police procedure got into his car. He spat, "What a fucked up mess," and drove off. His Grandmother Bella had already berated him for "putting his seed into _excrementi de cane_." It was at that point he decided Stephanie had the right idea, leave Trenton. He wasn't sure who the father was and if it was his, did he want a child with crazy Plum genes? If she wanted a relationship with him, she knew where he moved. For sure he was not coming back to Trenton or the Burg, ever again.

Eddie watched Joe drive away but knew he'd be in a bar sooner or later. Eddie would catch up with him to complete his report. Walking over to the knife, Eddie picked it up and took it to his police cruiser. He was obligated to check on Helen's welfare. After knocking on the door, Helen opened up and smiled, "Hello Eddie, how nice to see you. You don't come around often enough. Please come in, I just opened a new coffee cake."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 **Tank POV**

I closed the garage door and eased out of my truck. It had been a long work day and with luck, nothing would happen tonight and I could relax with Frosyni. Joe Morelli stormed into Rangeman office demanding to see Stephanie or Ranger. His breath reeked of beer and Italian food. At the end of his tirade I so wanted to put my fist into his face, but Bink rightly held me back.

Frosyni was in the kitchen preparing dinner. She read my face. "Tough day?" she asked.

Before she could wash her hands, dry them and reach into the refrigerator, I had already pulled two bottles of water and a bottle of beer.

I made my way to the breakfast bar stool and sat down, opened the water and drained the water all at once. "Joe came looking for Stephanie," I mumbled as I handed her the second water bottle.

"That probably wasn't pleasant," she said as she sat beside me.

"No, even if I knew where she went I'd never tell him." I said. I looked at her for more information, but she shook her head no. Either she didn't know where Stephanie went or she wasn't going to tell.

I opened the beer and took several swallows. "That's not all. Eddie Gazarra, the cop, stopped by; apparently after Joe left us he went to the Plum house. Helen went after Joe with a butcher knife. He was afraid he'd have to shoot her."

Frosyni listened but didn't interrupt.

"Fortunately Helen came to her senses, dropped the knife and then rushed back indoors. When Eddie checked on her, she had no memory of the incident."

Frosyni thought a bit, "It could be the drinking but I suspect there is more going on. I hope her family realizes it soon and gets her help."

I shook my head, "Between the restraining order and this most recent event, they'd be blind not to. Maybe Albert, the son in law will see clearly." I doubted it though, Albert was not the sharpest tack in the box.

"Families are in denial; they can't face the perceived stigma of mental illness or even alcoholism."

I finished the beer while Frosyni continued preparing dinner. I went to the shower and changed clothes. Returning more relaxed and ravenous with the wonderful smells emanating from the oven I continued my day's review, "I talked to our attorney earlier regarding Joe's visit and he suggested we take out a restraining order against him. I didn't believe that would be necessary but urged all patrols to avoid Joe, avoid Pino's or any of the bars he was known to frequent."

Fro nodded, "He's moved to a new town to get away from the community chaos, I suspect he'll leave quickly now that Stephanie is gone."

"What did she tell you?"

"She was thinking about joining Joe in the new town."

"Oh damn," I said to myself. How would Ranger have handled that? Joe wanted a normal life, traditional family, something Stephanie would quickly rebel. The marriage would last long enough to kick out a child and would be over and there Steph would be with a child in a strange town and Ranger would be so devastated he's probably move to Miami. What did Frosyni call her…immature, oversexed adolescent in a woman's body? Too bad Fro didn't mention Steph's incredible kindness, hound dog nature in fugitive apprehensions, but also her selfish streak.

After learning Bomber had planned or at least considered moving away, I lost my appetite. The baked fish with vegetables that smelled so good earlier was no longer appealing. Frosyni said she understood. I sat on the couch with the cats while she also did the dishes, we usually switch off; one cooks, the other cleans. Not tonight, she knew my mind was elsewhere. We seem to be developing some type of mental ESP thing. More and more I know her moods and thinking and she knows mine. I have that same relationship with Carlos….and pray I will again.

I was thinking about Carlos when I suddenly realized Frosyni had curled up next to me. I wanted to rub her back and asked permission.

"No, let me rub yours, you need it."

I had to chuckle internally. How few times has a woman wanted to rub my back? Wanted was the key word, I've paid for massages, but a voluntary rub, probably Lula was the last. Frosyni's one hand was strong; the left one had only recently been released from the sling and was weaker. I relished her touch and she seemed to be enjoying her work. As she slowed down she said something I was dreading.

"Tank it's I've been here twelve weeks and I'm doing OK. I've been working part time for several weeks, but now I must return full time. It's time I move on to a new apartment and quit imposing on you."

My stomach clenched, I was grateful I hadn't eaten. "Why do you have to leave? Your arm isn't back to normal."

Her face went to stone. I recognized the look; the soldier face when we are blocking emotions.

"Bobby, Dr. Johansen and the Army medics have declared me ready for full time duty…. desk duty until the arm strength returns. I have to become Major Pappas again, the Ft. Dix Bitch. I'm not sure I want you to meet her. You know Efrosyni. You were responsible for bringing her out. She does not want to leave."

She glanced away, a tell sign, she was barely holding it together.

"So far we've managed to keep our hands off each other...mostly," she said as she had resumed rubbing my neck and shoulder. " I'm not referring to my touch phobia. I'm not going to lie, I do have strong feelings for you but I don't know what to do about them. I've never had a relationship with a man. I'm celibate after being drugged and raped years ago."

My chest and stomach clenched. "You were raped?" I gasped. "When?"

"I was 19." She paused then continued, "Tank, for years I've kept myself separate from feelings. That's one reason I'm considered cold and heartless. My work is intense and my religious beliefs keep me from sex-capades. You have shown me I can and do have feelings. I would hate to get into a relationship and get transferred. I don't want to hurt you."

I was stunned. I carefully took her hand and looked into her eyes, "Frosyni, I fell for you the first time I saw you burned and broken in the vet clinic. You were injured but uncomplaining about your injuries, instead you sat there, obviously in pain, until you knew two kittens, not even your own, were being cared for. Under burned clothing and skin I saw a soldier with compassion, integrity, and a woman with an adorable nose."

She stopped rubbing my neck, "You noticed my nose?"

"Yeah, and your hazel eyes and…"

"Whoa, don't go any further," she said with a chuckle.

"The drive to the hospital and Bobby's concerned look and running commentary with the ER staff had me nauseous with fear. I've been in firefights and felt less anxiety than I did that morning. I thought you might die before I ever learned your name; but it was the 24 hours in the hospital when I'd let you sleep a while and awaken you and talk I began feelings for you. I didn't have to come every night to the hospital there after; I wanted to be with you and I still want to be with you."

I stopped and looked around the room then waving my hand, "This is all new to me. For years I've lived inside myself in a studio or one bedroom apartment at Rangeman, before that in barracks. My life was work and…bars. When the kittens came to me I had to leave my Rangeman apartment and find something adequate for them. Those 3 fuzz balls started drawing me out of my shell. For the first time, maybe in my whole life, I was nurturing something. After a few months I realized the cats deserved something more than a broken down hovel in the Burg. They needed room to run, jump and climb. So, I bought my cats a house with large windows, enclosed porch, and wide open places to play."

She chuckled, "This is a cat house?"

I smiled. "Actually you are the first woman along with Ella and Stephanie and the nurse, I've had in this house. Up to that day it was strictly me, the cats and some guys from work. It was no "cat house."

"When you stumbled into my life something inside of me clicked on. It's one thing to care for three cats; it's another to care for another human, to obsess with their care, wellbeing, to share their joy and sorrows, their strengths and weaknesses, dreams and…dramas. Each day my feelings for you deepen. I hoped you were developing feelings for me. That's why I haven't been sexually aggressive. I wanted to be a gentleman not what I usually am."

Somewhere along the way her stone expression was gone. She was stunned, confused and even shy. That was something I hadn't seen before. She wore it well.

She murmured, "Bobby was surprised when I called you a gentleman. What do you mean what you usually are?"

I sighed, "An opportunist. When I need female companionship especially sexual release I'm not too discriminating. I use what I can find. I've used quick hookups, one night stands, multi women one night stands, even whores. The most I've been with someone is for a month or so. It was just after the kittens came into my life and I had budding feelings. I've always used protection. I'm clean, Bobby and Ranger insist on regular checkups for all the men. Frosyni, most women look at me like I'm a freak. They see how tall and muscular I am and then they drop their eyes down to my groin. Many women display themselves as if they were open for bids. My Rangeman uniform is tight to intimidate, but perhaps you've noticed, at home my clothing is looser. My size and especially my manhood size are private to me."

I sat quietly for a while. I never talk this much there has been no need. This is my heart talking and it has plenty to say.

"This is very difficult…..I am a beginner as well. I never considered myself worthy of a real relationship with a woman…"

She put her hand up to stop me, "Why are you not worthy."

I'm big, ugly and….

" _Feo, fuerte y formal_?" she smiled.

"You are comparing me to John Wayne?"

"Personally you are better looking, much better looking," she smiled and winked.

No woman has ever called me good looking. Well, there was Lula but she was more interested in what was in my pants. Damn, where was I? "Forsyni, with you I've found something I long ago lost…hope."

She smiled softly and whispered, "Hope…" as if it was a foreign word. Her eyes glistened, I hoped she wouldn't cry.

"You have brought me hope for happiness, hope for fulfillment, and hope for a relationship with a lady, a fine lady. I haven't made a predatory move on you because ….well... you are different. You have intelligence, grace, compassion as well as being a fine looking woman. I was surprised when I came home one evening and found my Bible in your lap as you napped. You know combat, what it does to people. I've been trying to reclaim my soul and have a ways to go. It's only been recently I've returned to my church. You asking to come to my church and me to yours were something I never expected to happen.

We've been cautious around one another, but I want to start getting to know you better. I'm afraid if you get your own apartment it will be closer to Dix and I won't see you. Even here we are often like two ships passing, but at least we are in the same harbor from time to time."

She arranged her thoughts, hopefully more concise that what I just splattered out.

"Tank, I don't clearly remember our conversations in those first 24 hours; I was injured and drugged, but I do remember thinking 'this man is reading my mind.' I was so comfortable with your presence and that made me uncomfortable. Before I realized what was happening, I was eagerly anticipating your visits.

At the hospital and the first week here, PTSD flashbacks, nausea, mental confusion, frustration, I thought I was losing my mind. My chest hurt too much to scream or cry. Then you'd walk through the door and calmness would overtake me. You'd touch me my hand or arm and though I hate touch, there was something about you I trusted and still do." She reached up and touched my cheek.

"When you asked me to rehab at your home instead of a facility, I was shocked but even more shocked when I actually considered it. I was further shocked when Bobby went to bat for you with my commander assuring him there would be a nurse full time and a companion several hours a day.

"I've gone to great lengths to keep people, especially men at arm's length. Beyond the rape there have been other incidents by others that cost me advancement. I've found I need to keep myself encapsulated to survive, but you are getting through my barriers." She paused, "Either you are very wily or I'm letting you in." There was a little smile on her face.

"For the past 3 months, I've been awash in emotions, many are new, others are memories and admissions I've tried to keep hidden. I have a friend, George, he is my confident but he's more avuncular. But with you I can fully express my feelings; I can talk, I can breathe for the first time since Mama died.

How am I worthy of this? What have I done to deserve you? Am I in love with you? I don't know what adult love is. I remember family love but not love of another. What I do know is I really don't want to be away from you."

She smiled and put her hand on my chest. "Tank, to me you are a handsome normal size man, but then my perspective is skewed. . My mother used to call me 4 x 4; I am 4 inches shorter than my father and 4 inches taller than my mother. I remember your chest from the hallucinations; you said I called you 'daddy.' I'm sure you felt like my father when he'd hold me when I was injured, ill or afraid."

She put her head on my chest, "Boy aren't we a couple, two empty thirty-somethings, not looking for a relationship and stumbling into it."

I agreed, "Two blind people, in the dark….."

She continued, "I know if I get my own place I will lose this connection to you. I'll go back to being myself and you will go back into your world. Tank I would like to stay here with you and see where this goes, but I run into the officer's ethics code. There are those who are constantly looking to nail me for some indiscretion."

"Maybe you could be a renter?" I suggested.

She thought a moment, "That might work. I hope your monthly rent is reasonable and I demand receipts."

"I think we can work that out," I said.

With that we leaned towards each other and kissed. She was even new at kissing. It would be fun teaching her how, but right now she wasn't ready for a second kiss and I held off. She put her head back on my chest but I couldn't rub her back. I was OK with it. For the next few hours we talked, but when it came time for bed, we went to our own separate rooms. We had a lot to think about.

The next day Bink was once again on the front desk at Rangeman and called my office. "Sir, there's a Lt. General George Halvers here to speak with you."

I'm on my way," I replied. Finally I get to me Efrosyni's friend George. I knew he had been in the military, I didn't know his current status. He's a three star general, impressive.

When I entered the main lobby two men sat in the visitor's chairs. Both men stood. The general was my height or slightly smaller, broad and firm, grey buzz cut hair. The other was introduced as Colonel Pierce, the general's aide.

"I'm Pierre Sherman general." It was all I could do not the salute.

"Mr. Sherman, is there a place we can talk?"

"Yes, sir, follow me."

The aide remained behind as I showed the general to the smaller, more intimate meeting room. After offering him refreshments I began, "Sir, is this about Major Pappas?"

"Mr. Sherman I returned to Washington this morning after a long absence. I immediately caught the shuttle to Dix. I've known about Efrosyni's living arrangement for several weeks. She contacted me once she was out of the hospital, the second time. To say the least I am surprised she was in a private home, not in a rehab facility, and apparently she remains with you."

"Sir, we have an excellent trauma and rehab doctor here in Bobby Brown. He works with military elite returning them to service after injury."

"I'm aware of Dr. Brown's work."

"I knew we didn't have an open apartment here or else I would have housed her here. Yes, initially she was strictly in my home with a nurse and companion. My house is large, Major Pappas had and has her own private suite. Bobby checked on her twice a day. Once she was able to move around, I've been bringing her here for daily for rehab with Bobby. She has developed a report with the men here and since Rangeman is run much like the military, she is very comfortable here."

Are the nurse and companion still in your home?

No sir, Major Pappas found their coddling to be annoying. Once she could tend to herself, she dismissed them."

"I'm not surprised," he smiled slightly. "She's not one for coddling."

He looked me straight in the eyes, "Mr. Sherman, what is your relationship with Major Pappas?"

"Initially strictly hands off. I know about her touch phobia and respect it. She is a solider, an officer, though I'm no longer in service I respect the command structure.

Recently we have become closer. We have developed a friendship but in time that may develop into a relationship. Sir, we share many common interests. My ego has taken a knocking as she can outshoot me on most weapons and watching her work out in the gym, I'm not sure my martial arts skills are equal to hers. I and the men at Rangeman participate in her children's self-defense classes. We alternate attending each other's' churches on Sundays. I am learning she is one heck of an officer, soldier but she is also starting to realize she is a woman."

"Do you see a more permanent relationship with her?"

Suddenly I had to confront my own feelings head on. "Sir, from my side, I hope so. I will not push her into anything, not that I could anyway. She is bull headed."

George smiled, "That she is, that she is." He got serious again, "Do you know what she does in the Army?

"No sir. If she feels I need to know, she will tell me."

"Do you know about me?"

"You were the one assigned to get her into West Point. When her mother died you were the only contact they could find for her. You sat with her in the hospital and found a school she could attend while she mended. The two of you have maintained a friendship ever since. Indeed she considers you her only friend…..a very close friend."

The general nodded and then began speaking, "Mr. Sherman, when I first met Efrosyni my marriage had ended and my son died. Emotionally I was dead, but caring for this young lady, daughter of Sam Pappas, brought me back alive. She is my new family. She has overcome a lot in her life before and with the Army. I love her like a daughter and admire her courage. You can understand how I felt when I heard she had moved in with a man she did not know putting her military career at risk. Of course I've checked on you and discovered you were an exemplary soldier receiving numerous commendations both while in the Army and your government contractual work after. Rangeman Security is a much admired corporation to those who know its diverse nature."

"Sir," was Tank's only response.

"You and Dr. Brown kept Dix command apprised of her condition daily until she herself could report. Base commander Jennings speaks highly of Rangeman having worked with Dr. Brown before and is quite satisfied in the care you have given to his officer."

Tank remained quiet.

"Mr. Sherman, Frosyni is a heck of a soldier, very much like her father, but she has….issues."

"Sir, I know about her touch phobia and suspect is arises from the sexual assault."

"What has she told you about the assault?"

"Only she was assaulted, nothing more. In time she will share the information with me, if she wishes."

"I urge you to get her to talk about it. It will be important in your relationship. Apparently you haven't encountered her other phobias, there are two more also the result of personal experiences. In this day of mental health counseling, she has received almost none. If you pursue a relationship, you will have to tread carefully and may become her counselor. You may wish to consult Dr. Brown for help."

The general looked off for a bit before continuing. "Do you know what she has gone through in her Army career?"

"Not much sir. I know she was a sniper for a while, beyond that I don't know. As I said before, as our relationship develops I'm sure she will confide in me."

"You aren't curious?" he asked as if probing my ultimate intensions.

"Of course I am. If I did not respect her privacy, I'd ask you more. Sir, Rangeman is comprised mostly of former military men. We live security now and in past service. We know PTSD, we know about decompression and reentry. It's one of the reasons we exist. Maybe it is instinctual to care for and support one another. The men see a fellow solider and are supporting her, but above all, we always respect one another's privacy."

The general looked at Tank for a while, "Frosyni walks a tight rope in the Army. Years ago someone gained access to her records and was rewriting evaluations even changing orders. As a result she appeared incompetent. She never rose in rank. She was becoming more and more depressed and I feared she'd harm herself. Finally one of her commanders looked into her records and suspected the tampering. A trap was set for the saboteur. In his possessions were all her records dating back to West Point, both the originals and the ones he altered. He was one of her attackers at the Point.

When her records were restored and her performance reviewed, the Army reassigned her to intelligence. Her career has blossomed but commendations are far and few between because of enemies or preconceived notions that go back to the West Point attack. Mr. Sherman her living with you may be viewed as conduct unbecoming to an officer by her enemies. I'm sure she's aware of those who would use a double standard on her today just as they did years ago."

I took over talking, "General Halvers, yesterday she informed me she thought it best to move out as she is returning to full time duty. She mentioned the impression her remaining might make on her work. She is now a renter. I don't know if that is enough to hold off the rumor mongers.

Sir, I asked her to stay. We have not had sexual relations, she remains celibate. We both have emotional issues relating to our service; we are working through them with our priests and Dr. Brown. Bobby and the priests have said they would refer us to therapists if they felt we needed more intense work. I can't say what the future holds for us, sir, but I want the opportunity to find out."

Do you love her Mr. Sherman?

I care a great deal for her now. It may become love, the thought is a bit strange to me.

General Halvers chuckled, "Love is strange."

Standing General Halvers said, "Mr. Sherman you seem to understand you have a very complex woman on your hands. I am pleased to hear you two are in counseling with your priests and Dr. Brown. Then there's no need for me to tell you more at this time. When she does share more of her past or emotions with you and you have questions, I will leave you my contact information."

"I appreciate that. Sir, she is working in the gym right now, would you like to say hello?"

She was pedaling like crazy on the exercise bike; here own spin class. Ear buds kept her in a zone away from the men working on the weights or sparring on the mats. The men suddenly become quiet when a Lt. General, Colonel, and I came into the gym. I know they were straining not to call to attention.

She became aware of the sudden stillness and opened her eyes. A million dollar smile filled with love came to her lips, "George."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

 **Efrosyni POV**

Upon my return to duty I discovered my promotion had caught up with my transfer. It was expected. Tank was not fazed by my new rank, but the guys at Rangeman were. They met me when I was injured, but now I was healed and back as the Dix Bitch, now a _light bird_ Dix Bitch. Most days they saw me in uniform as I stopped by Rangeman on my way home. Our banter had disappeared; the men fell into military protocol. Add to that Tank and Bobby's increasing depression over Ranger and everyone's concern about Stephanie's disappearance, life was strained at the Haywood office.

To ease the tension Tank and I started inviting the men to Tank's home for barbecues, Greek or Panamanian dinners and poker nights. I inadvertently provided a very special poker night.

The day began in the rain, a long, never ending rain. Field training was scheduled, boot on earth field training or in this case boot in mud. I wasn't doing the training, rank has its privileges, I'd be observing only. I stood off from the quagmire and tried not to think about how wet I was becoming. The unit moved onto to the next drill and I was moving with them when I looked back and saw what I thought was a man down in the mud.

"Damn" I uttered and started down the hill to determine if it was or was not a soldier. The mound moved and I waded in full speed. Indeed a solider had fallen and his leg was badly broken. The cold mud was zapping his body warmth, he was going into shock. I called for rescue and then began carefully pulling the soldier out of the mud. Of course it wasn't a petite woman soldier, it was a big strapping guy well over 200 pounds. It tested Dr. Johansen's shoulder work and Bobby's therapy and fitness regime. I slipped a few times but had him to the edge of the wet grassy area by the time the MPs and EMTs arrived and took over. I looked down at myself, cold, wet and muddy from boots to ears. Mainly, though, I was pissed big time. I heard the unit not far away and I ran to them. They were jogging down the side of a road trying to avoid the mud but I stood in the middle of the goo, hands on hips waiting and burning. I'm sure steam was coming from my ears. There was no way they could ID my rank due to the mud, but most knew me by sight. The sergeant stopped the group. The lieutenant came up to me and saluted. I barked out "Sergeant, forward." When both were before me, the ass chewing began detailing their responsibility to all the men and never, ever leaving an injured one behind. The lieutenant and sergeant blanched. I then had then unit arranged in tight formation in the mud and for the next hour, in the rain I chewed their asses about leaving a fellow solider behind, not noticing the injured man, getting him to safety and rendering aid.

Turning back to the officer, "Run them again lieutenant."

"Sir it is lunch time" popped out of his mouth before he could catch it. He knew he blew it.

"Run them around twice. There will be no lunch and maybe no dinner until you, the sergeant, and your men understand, everyone looks out for one another." I ran along side of them, periodically stopping and making each one count heads. I was not popular but I guarantee, nobody in this unit will never again leave someone behind.

At the end of the second run, all of us were caked in mud. I knew one of the women needed to pick the child up at the base child care center; but she said not a word of complaint. Unbeknown to her I had already called the center and told them the mother was delayed and offered to pay an employee's overtime if they stayed with the child. Upon the final ass chewing and dismissal of the mud caked unit, I walked up to the woman and said, "There is someone waiting with your child at the care center." The relief in her eyes was instant and brief, "thank you ma'am."

It was late and I was not carrying the mud into my office. I threw a plastic tarp over my Jeep's seat and headed home. It was after dark and I was surprised to see all the trucks. "Damn, its poker night."

Normally I'd come through the garage strip down to my underwear, grab a towel for cover, and head to the shower. That wasn't going to happen with a house full of men plus I really needed to be hosed off first. I pulled out my cell to call Tank warning him I would be jumping the side wall and needed the security system disarmed.

"Lester, my hands are full, answer that," Tank called from across the room.

Lester noting my name on caller ID, "Hey Frosyni your man is busy, do you have a message."

Damn, of all people to answer the phone. "I'm jumping the side wall. Please disarm the security system." I was letting the comment "your man" pass, I was just too tired and had already chewed enough ass today.

"Forget your keys?" He snickered.

"No, I'm muddy and need to wash off. I'm not tracking Dix mud and sand through the house. Think about what you say next Mr. Santos. It might be your last words," I warned.

"Disarming the system now, ma'am," he shot back, politely.

First problem was the 7 foot wall enclosing the back yard. I was cold, exhausted, and mud from head to toe. I got up without a problem; it was the coming down that didn't go as planned. One hand slipped on the wet wall and I crashed down on the other side but rolled to distribute the body assault. When I pulled myself up into the bright flood-lighted yard, I was looking at 5 men with smiles on their faces, cell phones in their hands taking pictures. The remaining two had a concerned look on their faces; Bobby from the medical stand point and Tank from the ...friend? standpoint.

I growled and pushed past them and went for the garden hose. "I'd appreciate some help here blasting this mud off." Six guys immediately volunteered, the seventh wisely went and found something for me to wrap up in after the hosing. By the time the mud was blasted away, not only from my boots, but also everything from the neck down, I was freezing and my wet ACU was plastered against my body. Hector unlaced my boots and Hal held my hand as I removed them. Next was to strip off the uniform. My lips were blue and I was shivering from the cold water, cold rain, and exhaustion. I stood with my hands on my hips and stared them down.

"If you think for one minute, gentlemen I'm stripping in front of you, think again."

"Too bad," snickered Lester, "I was really turned on watching you being hosed down."

Thankfully Bobby slapped his head before I could spring forward and do more serious damage.

Tank had missed Lester's comment entirely, fortunately for Lester. I'm not sure Bobby could put Lester back together if Tank has heard him. Tank opened his large thick bathrobe with a hood and held it up. I was down to my birthday suit in no time, perhaps giving neighbors with binoculars a show, but not the guys. I quickly wrapped the belt around me. Tank's aroma surrounded me.

"You didn't even look, Tank." Lester smirked.

Tank growled, everyone else laughed, and I headed for the shower. When I returned Hector pulled out his cell phone and showed me a picture of the Abominable Mud Monster.

"Make me a copy so I can give it to my grandchildren," I stopped speaking quickly. I choked down a gasp. What had I just said?

The room was quiet. Hector looked confused, " _Que?_ "

 _" Me hacen una copia por lo que puedo mostrar mis nietos,"_ Lester translated.

Hector looked up, " _Coronel tienes un secreto?_ " (Colonel do you have a secret?) I looked at Tank's saucer wide eyes.

"Nooooooo I moaned, I'm not pregnant. We are house mates not bed mates...I've never, we've never...damn, I need a drink". I said as I headed for the hard liquor cabinet.

"You two have never..." Lester began but before he finished, Tank and I yelled together, "NO!"

Bobby started to chuckle and then so did everyone else except Tank and me.

I found my brandy snifter next to the Metaxa bottle and poured myself a generous portion. What had been a carry-out feast was nearly consumed. The only food left was a few slices of pizza and chicken wings. I grabbed a wing and a pizza slice along with a handful of baby carrots from the refrigerator. I sat on the couch away from the game. Bobby brought me a bottle of water, "That's a man size portion of brandy."

"I've had a hell of a day Bobby, but thank you for the water."

"I take it you didn't hurt yourself in the tumble," he asked.

I shrugged, "I was probably well cushioned in mud," I responded.

"I'd recommend Advil but not with the brandy, chose your poison," Bobby advised.

Lester quizzed Tank, "Seriously man, you live with her, she's beautiful, how can you not….I mean…you know?"

I threw a chicken wing bone at Lester and actually hit him, from 30 feet away.

"Hey, did you just hit me with that bone? Dang lady you should be pitching for the Mets."

"That was for your impertinent question. I rent the guest suite. The accommodations are quieter than an apartment; facility is more secure. Our work schedules rarely have us here at the same time. But to answer your question…We thought about doing it April 1st, but it is past, maybe next year." I wanted to look at Tank but didn't think either of us could keep a straight face. Only Bobby knew we were in counseling.

Calling our talks with Bobby counseling may be a stretch. Tank was worried my various life incidents would prevent us from…falling in love, having a relationship, whatever one wished to call it.

I adamantly stated Tank's …and Bobby's experiences were also stressful. In the end we ended up as each other's counselors though Bobby had the training.

Lester back tracked and tried again, "I really think you two should be together."

"Co-habiting, socially, legally, Biblically….what do you mean?" I asked.

"Not only do you two look great together….which means you have the looks to counter his ugliness; when you two are together you two are mellower. Soldiering does things to us, we often go dark and our heart turns to stone. We suppress our emotions until we no longer feel. Since you entered his life, Forsyni, I've seen Tank change. He's still an indomitable force, but I'm seeing him learn how to relax without booze or women. You on the other hand came to us injured and vulnerable. You didn't know how to relate to us. None of us reached your command rank and were, and maybe still are intimidated. Periodically you threw your command face at us like when you interrupted Tank's evaluation of Jason's defensive skills. Other times, you were lost. I watched in awe as Tank would come to you and with only his voice, not even a touch, he'd pull you back, but not to command mode, not the Dix Bitch; he'd pull you to human mode. You began to relate to the rest of us, interact with us as a friend eventually a trusted friend. You were and are developing a heart. Seeing you two together and the changes you are encoring in one another, I believe there is hope for me and Bobby and…"

"You aren't my type Lester, but thank you," Bobby quickly interjected.

Everybody laughed and Lester's spell was broken.

As I drank the water Bobby brought me, I thought about what Lester had said. Had I been the tinman from the Wizard of Oz? Did I want or need a heart and Tank was the wizard? I started on the brandy hardly noticing the burn as it went down my throat. Tank watched me carefully. Eventually he came over to check on me.

"That's a lot of brandy."

I smiled at him, "I'm a lot of woman."

"I'd like to find out how much, some day," he chuckled.

I was happy I didn't have a mouth full of liquor or I would have sprayed it all over him with his remark. "You are awfully cheeky tonight Mr. Sherman," I chuckled quietly.

His eyebrow went up and I expected something rude next. I held up a hand, "Truce."

He smiled and then turned serious, "You hurt from the tumble?"

"I think I'm fine. Years of training."

"Tough day?"

"Physically exhausting. I pulled an injured soldier out of the mire as his unit left him behind. I chewed everyone's ass for an hour, and then made them run the course two more times. I stopped them every 10 minutes to do a head count. Nobody in that unit will leave a fellow soldier behind. I released the unit but gave the lieutenant another ass chewing. I haven't had such a meal in years."

"Sounds like a righteous meal," he muttered. "You want to play a few hands?"

"Not after downing all that brandy, I'd lose my shirt and don't think you'd approve. I'll stay here and listen."

I woke up around 0430 and found I was still on the couch but had a pillow under my head and blanket covering me. I was still wearing my sweats and slippers. The house was dark, the card game long over. I wondered how many offered to take me to bed and if the offerors were still alive. Tank was becoming very protective.

There was no time to leave the sofa and crawl into bed; I needed to be on base by 0600. Getting up early allowed me time to catch a handball game on base.

When I stood, I ached everywhere. Mud wrestling and falling off the wall had lasting effects. I should have taken the Advil instead. I debated about the bed, but decided I'd go swim some laps at the base pool to work out the kinks. Handball could wait another day. I made coffee and left Tank the pot. He'd be up in thirty. Alongside the coffee maker I left a note thanking him for not waking me. I also included I would pick up some Advil today. This way he would know I was sore from yesterday. At the end I signed it "with love from your mud wrestling mama."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

To those concerned, Stephanie does reappear later in the story, I haven't forgotten her.

 **Frosyni POV**

A few days later I had an afternoon and early evening clogged with meetings and teleconferences. I texted Tank to see if he wanted to meet me for an early lunch. He shot back yes, but time was limited for him too. Did I have time to come into town for Pino's? I texted back, "ETA 45m, order 4 me."

Dix was a good 30 minutes from Trenton, but the slow and no-go traffic through the town and especially the Burg was crimping my schedule. Pino's parking was nonexistent, the lot was filled and the street parking packed. I shoved my Cherokee into a parking space two blocks down and quick walked back to Pino's. The brisk walk scared a few people but allowed me to let off steam. By the time I whipped off my sunglasses as I entered the restaurant, I was mellow. The bartender, Tito Mazarelli, gave a hello sign and several bar patrons turned and stared. I was used to it; 6'2" mixed race female in uniform was imposing. I couldn't see Tank but did see monstrous Hal and Cal and assumed Tank was hidden by a short broad black woman in colorful spandex. Was this Lula?

Hal and Cal grew bug eyed when the spotted me and I smiled and gave small "no" shake of my head. Relax gentlemen, I can handle her.

In the next booth sat a medium height woman with big black hair, tight blouse that showed off an expansive and natural chest, slender waist. Betty Boop popped into my mind. Her bright red mouth was set in a circle and her eyes wide open. I didn't know if she was saying "Boo Boopidie Boob" or "Oh my God" as she watched me make my way across the restaurant. She said something to the woman I assumed was Lula. Whirling around Lula watched me move across the restaurant. She threw her hip out to the side and placed her hand on her hip and huffed. I wanted to laugh but held my neutral face.

I walked over calmly. No predatory moves were needed. I was about twelve inches taller than her but she still outweighed me. Her neon yellow spandex halter top was stretched to the max across her chest and abdomen. Her hot pink denim skit barely covered her sizeable ass. The blue FMPs looked like Louboutin's or good knock-offs. Her crowning glory was artificially straightened hair colored cherry red.

"What the fuck you are," she said. "Freaky Army Bride of Frankenstein?"

That was a new one. I've been called freaky tall, freaky strong, but never a freaky monster.

I hit her with my name, "Lt. Colonel, Efrosyni Soteiria Pappas, US Army."

"Well lieutenant Army, what do you want?"

"Lunch."

"Do I look like a freakin' waitress? I'm no waitress, seat yourself elsewhere, these booths are taken."

"I assumed you were not the waitress but for the life of me I don't know what you are. You do have a way with color."

I saw out of the corner of my eye Hal and Cal suppress smiles.

"You gotta thing about us beautiful black people you half breed? At least I'm not in that ugly camo. As for what I am, it's none of your business, but since you asked, I'm his girlfriend." She said as she flung her air towards Tank.

"I see," I said. "However these gentlemen, your boyfriend and I have a lunch appointment."

"Is this a Rangeman business meeting?" she asked as she swung her other hip out. At least she was agile.

"Ma'am, all you need to know is lunch and if you'll excuse us, our time is limited."

She stood there for a bit. Was she frustrated she couldn't get a rise out of me? "Call me Tank honey when you want a good time." She said. And she returned to Betty Boop in the booth behind Hal and Cal.

After I slid into the booth next to Tank I had my head down in the menu but said with a smile, "You'd better call her because you are not getting anything from me until you marry me."

All three men's eyebrows shot skyward and I just chuckled. Tank had fear on his face so I decided to let him off the hook, "I'm just kidding."

I'll give him credit; he recovered quickly, "Which part?"

I shut my eyes and suppressed a laugh. "Touche, Mr. Sherman." The waitress arrived with our lunches, my meatball sub was preordered.

* * *

It was Saturday morning and we both had time off.

"Frosyni, are you up for a run?" Tank asked. Tank ran the neighborhood four times a week. The neighbors were no longer surprised to see a big dark man in the area since he also kept an eye out for strangers and had captured several burglars in the past. We had run about 9 miles with another mile to go before we reached home. "Let's slow down," he said.

We slowed to a slow jog and eventually a walk. As we walked Tank broke the silence, "Forsyni, may I ask you something personal?"

"OK," said warily.

"In our talks with Bobby I've learned your touch phobia is from your assault, but you never go into specifics."

"You want a detailed blow by blow account?" I asked with alarm and bite in my voice. I instantly regretted the outburst. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bite."

"No, I can let it go," he said with remorse.

I signed, "I'd rather discuss it with you only, not with Bobby present. It may impact our future intimacy." I just admitted I wanted to be intimate with him, whoa.

We walked through the entry gate and up the driveway in silence. When we reached the front porch, Tank went inside and brought back water bottles. I needed the time to gather my thoughts and courage.

"It happened second semester, second year, West Point. There was a group of cadets not comfortable with women in their school. The bastion had been breached years before but some still felt West Point belonged to men only. Also in the group were morally unstable men who were sexual predators. Together those in the group wanted to either rid the school of woman or simply just prey on them.

I was first cadet for my class the first three semesters which made me a target for those who wanted me gone and being tall caught the sexual predators' eyes. We had just returned from winter break. I had a meeting after dinner. As I left the dining hall I became queasy, but figured the cold air would help. Suddenly an upper class man was by my side. "Cadet, you look unwell." He said. I assured him I was fine but he insisted to walking with me to my destination. Unfortunately the drug that had been slipped into my meal, probably the water, began acting and the upper classman led me to a private area. There four other cadets were waiting."

Did I really want to go into specifics? If I didn't do it now it will be a block to any developing relationship.

"One grabbed me from behind, trying to pin my arms but my mind cleared just enough to get him off and wipe out his knee. Suddenly the other four were on me. I was down on my knees, arms pinned behind me, everything was distorted; buildings, voices, and I began vomiting. The guy in front got his shoes splattered so he started yelling which alerted someone who called security. In the time lag I was punched, my jacket and blouse ripped open and the guy in front started biting. Somebody wearing gloves kept his hand over my mouth. Good thing my stomach was empty by then.

The other three lifted me to my feet, a mistake on their part. I swung around and ruptured a few testicles on two of them, broke the nose of a third before the drug and more punches sent me to the ground. I fell, face first onto the snow. I remember being kicked by two, the other three were incapacitated. Someone pushed my head into the snow; I couldn't breathe and eventually lost consciousness. I vaguely remember my shoes and pants being removed but not the penetrative molestation.

MPs arrived, in time to see one guy still on me. One MP noted I wasn't breathing, dug the snow out and started resuscitation. I didn't regain consciousness until I was in the hospital. I had bruises all over; face, ribs, back, abdomen, and legs. The bite marks were distinctive enough to get impressions. Tissue in the vagina and anus were torn and semen was found in both."

I couldn't look at Tank; instead I stared out at the front gate.

"Though I was brutally attacked, several of the attackers required surgery to repair their injuries. Unfortunately the leader of the group was the son of a US Senator and grandson of an Army general. I was brought up on charges of severely injuring 4 upper classmen and was headed out the door and into civilian jail, not military as I was still an underclassman. If it hadn't been for excellent documentation by the MPs, my doctor and a nurse who broke medical protocol and called someone who called someone until the media found out, I might have ended up in jail. There was no way the Pentagon and Washington were going to be able to hide what happened. West Point was pressured into keeping me and filing charges against the upper classmen who were later court martialed. Still there were ways to knock me down. No matter high my grades, they were often reported lower or incomplete. I had to petition for review each semester. I received behavior demerits by the bucket though I didn't do anything to earn them. I contested all, most were overturned after discipline had been meted out. As a result my standing as #1 cadet plummeted. Upon graduation I did not received the appointment to medical school I was working so hard to earn. Instead I was sent to Infantry. Then, stupid me, I scored high, very high in weapons and was assigned to Ft. Campbell, sniper school."

"You told Bobby you received almost no counseling," he whispered.

"The Army wanted it swept under the rug quickly. More counseling was available at the school across the Hudson where I finished high school, but I could never get a pass to leave the Point's grounds."

"How much later did the touch phobia begin?"

"Almost immediately. Fortunately a physical training instructor encouraged me to use marital arts to overcome my anger. He was one of the few there that tried to help me. He taught me how to control and redirect my anger into force. I'm more than a little concerned how I'm going to be able to handle your touch. So far you telling me ahead really helps, but what happens if you forget? How long were you bruised after I hit you during the hallucinations? What happens if we become intimate?"

"That's been bothering me, too. Perhaps our foreplay will be a hand to hand or Judo."

I looked at him, he was smiling. I assumed he was kidding.

"As long as I won't need ice afterwards; phobia #1 subclause a: ice or snow on my face or chest. "

"Is there such a thing?"

"It may be a form of cryophobia. For me it stems from being pushed and held down into the snow. I try hard not to get bruised in the face and letting a medic apply ice."

We stood and he extended his hand to me, I took it. "Hugs?" he asked." I threw my arms around him. He is such a rock.

We headed inside and quickly showered in our own bathrooms, changed into clean clothes and back to the kitchen for lunch.

As we ate Tank began to speak, "You've been very open about your past, may I ask more questions?"

I looked at him, "You seem to have a loquacious effect on me today."

I was thinking about what George Halvers said about your career being sabotaged. He said a trap was set, how did that work? Or can you talk about it?

I was surprised George told Tank and I considered telling Tank it was classified as parts were. No, I could gloss over sections and be safe. I wiped my mouth, took a few sips of water and began, "My career was going nowhere. I was still a second lieutenant and a sniper, a outcast. I'm sure they were trying to figure out a way to bust me down to sergeant, not that they could. I did have a commission. I was going from one hell hole to another, doing my job as a sniper but always something went wrong. I'd be late for assignment; wrong target, and such. I was chewed out constantly, written up as incompetent. One mission the evac helicopter pilot didn't know I was out there. I came running but the starboard gunner thought I was an unfriendly and opened up. Fortunately he missed. Somebody had failed to inform the mission commander I was out there. I had been on site for 55 hours; I was fragile already, nearly killed by a .50 cal, I didn't need more ass chewing. Back on base the whole incident was somehow my fault. Fortunately my commanding officer reviewed everyone orders and found discrepancies. In reviewing previous missions and orders he found more. Someone was purposely altering my orders or rewriting my post-mission reports.

My commander knew I needed a break and had me assigned as an aid to a military official going to Israel because I speak Hebrew and Arabic. I'm in country a week when suddenly I'm rousted in the middle of the night and hustled off to prison. Somebody told the Israelis I was an assassin there to kill a high ranking Israeli official. What the saboteur and I didn't realize was my assignment was a trap. The US Army wasn't trustworthy so my commander, through his contacts with the Israeli military set a trap.

The saboteur was identified and in his possession were all my records dating back to West Point and up to the present. He also had my altered records including the assassin charge. End of story."

Tank looked at me. "There's a bit more to the story isn't there?"

"I was sitting in prison in Israel. I figured I'd die in an Israeli prison and resigned myself to my fate. While I remained in care of the Israelis, an Army and Congressional review board was created, evidence was examined and I was exonerated of everything. When I returned home I was assigned to intelligence, Middle East.

"Care of the Israelis?" He asked.

Damn, he caught that. "Yes, I quit eating and drinking in prison, my father's memory didn't need to be further tarnished by his daughter. What nobody told me was I was in custody to protect me from my enemies. The investigation took a while, I lost 15 pounds and spent time with their shrinks getting unwound."

"Are you still in intelligence?"

"More or less."

"Anything else I need to know?"

"Let's see….I love opera, the color purple and blueberries."

"Smart ass, I was referring to phobias and past dramas."

"I know."

With that I was on my feet, clearing the dishes and stacking the dishwasher. I went off to my bedroom, grabbed dirty laundry and headed for the laundry room. "Do you have laundry?"

"You know I have a housekeeper who does that."

"Yes, but my closet is limited, I need clothes for Monday and Tuesday."

Just then his phone rang. He was needed back at work.

He disappeared to the bedroom, changed into Rangeman uniform and was heading out the door when he stopped and back tracked, "May I kiss you goodbye?"

My face lit up, "Of course."

After a rather nice kiss, he continued to hold me and quietly said, "Thank you for opening up with me today. I know it wasn't easy for you and it sure wasn't easy for me to listen to. You are one heck of a woman."

"I hope I haven't scared you away…"

He chuckled, "That will be the day."

I still had his hand in mine, "You don't have issues…?" I asked tentatively.

He reached back with his other hand, "I've beaten mine into submission so they rarely rise anymore. Yours are still kicking around. We will deal with them together." He kissed me again and was out the door.

I went back to the breakfast bar stool and sat down. It had been quite a morning and lunch. I dumped my "dirty laundry" on him and he didn't flinch, too much. Was he the one who would help me unpack and leave those issues behind? George Halvers had helped me loosen them; maybe Tank would finally allow me to free myself.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Thanks to Sassysaint and others for giving names to the Manoso family members.

Stephanie returns in a few chapters, briefly. She hasn't gotten lost in Georgia.

000000

 **POV Tank**

Tomorrow is my best friend's birthday, Carlos. His family knows he's been captured and could be dead, but that amazing family has invited me to come to their home in Newark to celebrate Carlos' life. I asked if I could bring someone very special to me. Carlos's father said, "We'd love to meet her."

I had already told Frosyni how I lost my family when I was a teenager, ran away from the foster home and how Carlos' family received permission for me to live with them. While Carlos fell deeper into gang society, I was grateful for the second chance, I pulled away from the gangs and into sports. Carlos never held it against me and I think he secretly admired my strength, but his testosterone and bravado wouldn't allow him to admit it.

Now I was taking someone new in my life. to my adopted family. A woman I revered and who was stealing my heart. I'm sure the Manosos thought I'd be a bachelor all my life, so did I. Life is filled with strange twists.

Frosyni chose to wear a dress for dinner. It was sleeveless and stopped above her knees. She didn't often wear dresses as she said it was hard to find ones long enough to cover her butt and still be decent. Due to the freshness of the arm scar she had a light sweater to wear cover her arms when among others. Someday soon I hope to compare body scars.

"Tank, if you don't stop looking at my legs we are going to have an accident," she chided.

I responded, "I don't get to see them very often. They are beautiful. I hope someday to see the top part too."

I remember the look of surprise on her face, "I could have worn shorts, but then we'd really have an accident."

I wanted to say it would be no accident, but held my tongue.

When we pulled up in front of the large two story Manoso home, Frosyni asked, "This is where you lived?"

Yes, Carlos and I shared that room, far left. We could get out and down at night without the whole house knowing. We thought we were so cool until Mr. Manoso told us we had to repair the trellis we were breaking on our escapes.

As we walked towards the front door, Frosyni took my hand, "This will be an emotional evening for you and the Manosos. If you want to drink more than you should, I'll drive home."

I stopped and looked at her, "Thank you." I then kissed her on the cheek without asking. She didn't protest.

 **Efrosyni POV**

Before we had reached the top step onto the porch, the door was opened and a handsome Latino man, slightly less than six feet tall welcomed us, "Pierre, welcome home." He stepped forward and embraced Tank who returned the hug.

"Anton, this is Frosyni Pappas. Frosyni, this is Anton Manoso, Carlos' father."

I braced for a hug from this strange man, but instead he extended his hand, "Frosyni, welcome to our home. Pierre mentioned you have a touch issue and we will try to observe it, but understand, we are a touchy family. We might forget. Forgive us."

Well, that made me feel like an ogre. "Thank you sir and I hope to be equally accommodating." I gave him my biggest smile to take the sting out for all of us.

Next in line was Mari, Anton's wife. She caught herself coming in for a hug and stepped back shyly. Javier, their son, automatically extended his hand, "Pleased to meet you and welcome to our family home."

From the kitchen came women all in their 30's or late 20's. Tank introduced them; Celia, Leya, Angel, Alyssa, Sylvia, and Santana. Not all of them were Manoso daughters, some were daughters-in-law but all were treated like close family. In the background was an older lady, shorter than everyone.

"Abuela Rosa," Tank gushed and in few steps was across the room and hugging the woman. _Pensé que estarías en Miami._ (I thought you'd be in Miami.)

Tank motioned me to him and said, " _Abuela, esta mujer es muy especial en mi vida. Su nombre es Efrosyni Pappas_." (Grandmother, this woman is very special in my life. Her name is Efrosyni Pappas.)

Before the older lady could respond, I knelt down, lowering myself to her size and said, " _Es un placer conocer a la matriarca de esta adorable familia que llevó a Pierre a sus corazones."_ (It is a pleasure to meet the matriarch of this lovely family who took Pierre into their hearts.)

There was silence all around and I winked, " _Mi madre era panameña._ " (My mother was Panamanian.)

Javier slugged Tank, "Forget to mention that bro?"

The already welcoming atmosphere blossomed anew. As Tank stayed with the men, I was ushered into the kitchen to taste the food the women were preparing. Everything smelled very familiar. This was home cooking, Mama's home cooking.

I caught a glimpse of the dining room table and realize I had yet to meet everyone. Son in laws, nieces and nephews came in from the back yard and I lost tract of names and numbers. I was more interested in the food.

"Do you know this?" Mari asked as she lifted the lid on a heavy cast iron casserole.

I looked down, took a deep whiff, " _Ropa Viega_." I wished someone had handed me a spoon or fork. Mari smiled.

A large ceramic casserole appeared, "Try this," Celia urged.

The lid was opened to reveal chicken in wine sauce with vegetables. I smiled, "Pollo…..something, depending how you finish it." I saw plantains and mushrooms. " _Pollo Guajira_?"

Celia beamed. "The lady knows her food."

I saw several more large casseroles and knew there would be beans and rice. Very few Cuban meals existed without them. The last casserole was still tightly wrapped. It would be a surprise.

Leya and Angel were busy finishing up a _salata_ , salad of greens, tomatoes, avocado, red onion. Now my Greek side would have thrown in feta cheese. The dressing would be the family's own vinaigrette.

Santana was putting clear film on a fruit salad that was colorful and looked fantastic; mangos, bananas, pineapple, kiwi, ….and blue berries? That had to be special for me. I felt warm with love from these people.

"What can I do?" I asked.

"Talk to us, we want to know all about you," Mari said.

I laughed, "Only the good parts, only Pierre has to endure the bad."

Celia asked, "Are you two close?"

"We are moving that way. I suspect I'm the slow one."

"Are you going to marry him?" Santana's youngest daughter asked.

"Hush child, that is personal," Mari scolded.

"I would like to, someday, but my Army life gets in the way," I answered.

"NO!" Mari harshly cried. "Pierre has never brought a woman home, you must mean something very special to him. Do not wait. Live your heart while you can. Don't be like Carlos and lock yourself away."

I sat for a moment trying to process Mari's outburst. The anguish in her voice was palpable for her son, her missing son, her son who had not opened his heart to find a wife and family. Now she has grandchild on the way she knows nothing about. Was I wrong to send Stephanie to Georgia? Would she have been better here in a loving family? No, not now. Stephanie needs to learn how to take care of herself and her child, make decisions, move forward not spin in a circle of indecisions.

The meal was ready. Somehow the giant family made their way around the table; adults, children and babies held by their parents. It was a family unlike anything I had known. Being an only child of immigrant parents and whose father was often away, I had no reference for this familial warmth. Military training kicked in, "Concentrate on the objective." My objective was not to make a fool of myself or embarrass Tank and to soak up this family's warmth and hospitality.

Before the food was passed, the family went quiet and Anton began a prayer asking for a blessing for the food, but most importantly for Carlos whose situation was unknown and praying he would return. If not they prayed he be judged with compassion. I sensed it was a prayer that had been prayed often, but today with great intensity. There was no mission handler assuring them Carlos would return, sometime. When I looked up I didn't see a dry eye around the table including the younger nieces and nephews. Carlos Manoso may have had a reputation as a dangerous, cold hearted man, but he was deeply loved by his family. Did he know?

Gradually the mood lightened, especially when the mystery pan was opened, Paella Marinera. Shrimp, scallops, clams, fish in a saffron rice with red peppers and green peas for color.

Of course I had a bit of all three main dishes on my plate; paella, beef and chicken. I shook my head in wonder and in sadness missing my mother.

"Why are you shaking your head?" Mari asked.

"My ultimate dream is a meal with these three items, plus a leg of lamb. This is as close to Nirvana as I'll ever get."

Tank looked over, "You could eat all that?"

Before I realized what I had said I answered, "Sweetheart, easily and with Galactobouriko and Baklava both for dessert."

While I was stunned with the "sweetheart" part, Santana asked, "What is the Galato-stuff?"

Distracted I said, "Sweet cream custard in philo pastry sheets."

Angel interjected, "Will natillas do?"

I almost swooned; soft custard with cinnamon. "Is it served warm?" I asked.

The women looked at me like I was nuts.

"There's a little restaurant south of Albuquerque that serves their warm, it is exceptional." I answered.

"What is the restaurant?" Javier asked. "I'm in Albuquerque from time to time."

I looked at Rosa and smiled, "Abuelita."

Once the dishes were washed, everyone adjourned outside. The spacious back yard was well lighted and seating plentiful. Since it was Carlos' birthday, the photo albums appeared and I got my first look at Carlos Manoso. I looked up at Anton and saw the striking similarities.

After a while Javier came over. "You and Pierre don't have living relatives. Pierre is already one of us; I hope you will consider us yours as well."

I was beyond touched and stood up and threw my arms around him. He awkwardly held his hand out, "Go ahead, you can touch me," I whispered in his ear. Released, he gave me the Manoso hug that I had seen Anton give Tank. Shyly others came over, crying and kissing and gently hugging me. I dare not say a word or it's loose it altogether.

When I was time to leave and everyone had been thanked, hugged and kissed; I asked Tank if I should drive.

"Yes, beer and rum. Not a good combination."

Once home I threw my arms around him and whispered into his ear, "Thank you for a wonderful evening. I've never had a family of more than two. That was overwhelming and heartwarming. What are you doing to me?"


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16 A little peek at Stephanie in Georgia...**

Stephanie had been in the condo for several months. As she finished her afternoon walk around the golf course adjoining the condo complex, a very tall older man walked up to her, "Ms. Plum?" Stephanie stopped.

"I'm General George Halvers, a friend of Efrosyni's. I'm your neighbor in unit 6. Efrosyni asked me to look in on you when I'm in town. May we talk a bit?"

Stephanie had already met several other residents and realized all were military, retired or active. Meeting a general wasn't surprising. "Sure, we can sit over here," Steph said indicating a pergola nearby.

"Ms. Plum…."

"Stephanie please, I'm not military and a little overwhelmed by titles down here. Please just Stephanie."

"Stephanie," he said graciously. "Come, let's sit down." They walked to a small sitting area under a pergola. "Efrosyni told me about your situation. May I ask how you are doing?"

"Under the circumstances, I'm OK."

"Stephanie, for Frosyni to remain in compliance with the homeowner associations rules, you will have to vacate her condo by December 31st. Mind if I ask how you are working to resolve your problems and move on? "

She chuckled to herself; he's straight to the point, just like Frosyni. "I'm taking a business course to brush up on my skills and I have a part time job at an insurance company. I'm also looking at full time work in this area as well as other cities."

"Excellent. Have you thought about counseling?" he asked kindly.

"Why?"

Ms. Plum, Stephanie you are down here, alone, without support and you've come from a traumatic experience. Talking with someone who can help you in areas where you are weak and help you move on would be very beneficial. We have counselors here at Benning and though you are not married into the military, I'm sure I can pull a few strings," he said with a smile. "Spouses of military undergo challenges not faced by most in civilian life."

"I don't know, I'm more of a singular person, do things myself," she shrugged.

"And how has that worked out?"

"Ah well…"

"Working alone slows or hinders the process. Even the strongest among us need the guidance and support of others, especially those trained in mental health care and starting a new life."

Stephanie didn't say anything, but just sat quietly thinking. Her support, her other was Ranger, he was always the rock, the one who knew what she needed before she did. He was the one who could dry her tears with thumbs and hold her to his heart. But he belonged in Trenton, someplace she would never return. Could they live in Miami near Julie?

"Ms. Plum, I sincerely wish you would consult to counseling for what I have to tell you will add to your burden. Captain Manoso has been captured. His status is unknown."

"Ranger! How do you know this?"

I am a general, I have sources," he said without a smile.

Stephanie sat stunned. "Captured? Can he be rescued?"

"Ms. Plum, in current warfare and where he was operating, captives are not often kept alive unless they are of some service to their capturers."

"Then he could already be dead."

"It is possible. We may never know. Please know we will continue to learn more.

"Did Frosyni know...is that why she sent me here?"

"No, at the time you came here she knew nothing."

Quietly the General continued, "Efrosyni believes in you. She would not have put you here unless she thought you were strong enough to put your life together and move on."

"Why is she helping me?" Stephanie asked.

"Efrosyni has had her shares of ...disasters in her life. She benefitted from a helping hand and now she is extending her hand to you."

"You sound like her."

"Yes," he laughed slightly, "I probably do. She and her mother were in a bad accident. Her mother died and Efrosyni was in the hospital without any family. The doctors found my card in her wallet. I was the one who got her accepted into West Point and became her…surrogate parent. We've remained close even having condos here in the complex."

He paused for a while and looked at the flower bed alive with early summer blooms. He probably shouldn't expand further but Frosyni had told him to do what was necessary for Stephanie.

"She was going to West Point to earn a position in medical school. She would have been a fine doctor. Without going into details, she lost the dream. Her life at West Point became a nightmare as was her early military career. Yet she never gave up. When the Army found the records indicating people were purposely sabotaging her career, her history dating back to West Point was reviewed and her career took off. Since then she has been generous in her support for others undergoing difficult times.

If you are down here, she sees something worthy in you but expects you to get your life in order. You can blame your life up to now on your family or your community, but from this point on, you are in charge of yourself and your child. Captain Manoso will not be here to help. Frosyni has given you a very generous helping hand. Use it wisely."

Stephanie sat quietly and processed Ranger is probably gone. He warned her many times, that's why he would not get into a committed relationship. Would Joe take her back? No, she was down here to move away from Trenton, to make her own way in the world. Ranger always believed in her, now it was time to believe in herself.

"Will you keep me updated on Ranger?"

"Yes ma'am. I will give you my contact information if you run into problems. Please let me make arrangements for you with a counselor, I know it will help you. Stephanie you do not have to do this alone. Frosyni has told me about the anguish the men at Rangeman are going through trying to find you and help you."

Do they know about Ranger?

Only three, Mr. Sherman, Mr. Santos, and Dr. Brown.

"No, I hurt them."

"You hurt them when you left suddenly. You should let them know you are safe. You had no control over your mother's actions. You are carrying enough burden, you don't need to take on others."

The general stood and extended his hand, "Ms. Plum, if you want to talk, I'll be here another three days before returning to Washington."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

The last of the three phobias rears its ugly head.

 **Efrosyni POV**

I flew back from Ft. Bragg early. I've been working there a lot recently on an old assignment. My early arrival allowed me to set up for the weekly poker game. I had finished the fresh fruit salad and was putting the final touches on a big Greek salad. Tank arrived home bearing beer and take-out Barbeque. The other guys would all contribute to the meal. It would be a take-out feast which is why I had the salads on hand.

Tank stopped and kissed me before heading back to change clothes. I hoped he was in an improved mood. Running Rangeman was stress enough, but worrying about Ranger and Stephanie was eating at him. He had been in the military he understood missions and death, but losing Stephanie was worse. It was his responsibility to take care of her and he failed.

"Frosyni, it's hard sitting here, knowing we can't help find him. Times past we were back up and immediately sent to find him. I've tried to contact my former handlers, but I'm locked out." We don't have intel," is all they say." He looked at me knowing I worked Middle East intelligence.

Yes, I had more information, but how much could I tell him? I sighed, "The official word is he and his team was captured. It's worse than that. Three of his team was found dead. When we could get into the area, there was no trace of the survivors or their capturers. His team was in country native commandos. They are looking, we are looking but I get the feeling they have quit and have written their men off as well as the mission. Frankly, it's a little stinky.

We've been back tracking everyone involved with the mission to see if they were set up or their mission compromised. We've been pushing our informants but nothing has come back. That doesn't' help us get to where the survivors are now. It's not my division, Tank; people are giving me information as they can. Once he his located, there will be every effort to get to him. You know that. We and are friends have excellent hostage rescue if we get the intel."

What I couldn't tell Tank was the three killed were all beheaded.

He sat quietly. Ranger was his friend for years, this was hard. He continued, "Then there's Stephanie. She just ran off, she didn't tell us why or where she was going. Ranger gave me direct orders to look after her while he was away on missions or business meetings. I was to keep her safe. I've failed her and I've failed Ranger."

"No you haven't! I said maybe too forcefully. "Tank, Stephanie is a grown woman, at least in age. Granted she acts like a child at times, but I blame her upbringing for that. Don't blame yourself, blame me. She was hysterical; guys don't react well to hysterical woman. I got her settled down and as I told you gave her some money so she could get away, think and hopefully start a new life away from Trenton. There are places she can get help, she knows that, but she has to go to them. There is no white knight to come in and save her. Tank, she has to finish growing up. I suspect in time she'll contact us, maybe after the baby is born or she has a new beginning."

"What about her medical needs?"

"Nobody is turned away from medical care. I'm sure she is being well cared for. You can continue to worry, I am as well, but we need to be hands off. She still has months to go before the baby is due."

I didn't sleep well after our conversation. Yes, I was worried about her.

000

I tucked the giant salad back into the refrigerator and finished converting the dining table into a large poker table. Chairs were added, all we needed was the players.

Tank emerged from his shower wearing his loose pants and free flowing Hawaiian shirt.

"Hello Big Kahuna," I said with a kiss.

"Ku `u Lei," he responded with another kiss.

I had no idea when he said "Hmm that sounded nice. Will you tell me what it means?"

He smiled, "Someday."

I was heading in for another kiss when I realized our guests were arriving.

My third and final phobia, astraphobia, the fear of lightning made an appearance surprisingly during the poker game. I was at the table playing when a storm blew in. I tried to concentrate but found myself beginning to hyperventilate and didn't need to let the guys see me. I excused myself.

I fought for control and returned to only watch the rest of the game. Hector came over to me and wanted to take my hand. I shook him off.

He looked confused and a little hurt.

 _"No me gusta ser tocado a menos que me pides primero_." (I don't like to be touched unless you ask me first.) I told him quietly.

 _"No sabía que hablaba español,"_ (I didn't know you spoke Spanish), he whispered.

" _Héctor, mi padre era griego, mi madre panameña. Por supuesto que hablo español ... y griego y varios otros idiomas_." (Hector, my father was Greek, my mother Panamanian. Of course I speak Spanish…..and Greek and several other languages.)

He paused a bit after more lightning flashed followed quickly by the thunder, _"¿No te gusta tocar o tormentas?"_ (You don't like touch or storms?)

Noooooo.

He shook his head in understanding. ¿ _Puedo sostener su mano?_ (May I hold your hand?)

I nodded and took his hand trying not to hold it in a death grip.

After a while he said in English, "I know."

I smirked, " _No sabía hablaba ' Inglés."_ (I didn't know you spoke English.)

He caught the irony and smiled.

"What do you know?" I asked.

"I know Estafania is safe in your house."

I knew Hector was a computer whiz, hacker extraordinaire, something I wanted to talk to him about, someday soon.

"Have you told anyone else?" I whispered.

"No. You were right to send her away."

"Does she need more money?"

 _No sé._ He shrugged.

 _"Preocuparse de sus gastos médicos. ¿Puede encontrar su médico y la cuenta?"_ (I worry about her medical expenses. Can you find her doctor and account?)

 _"Si."_

 _"Gracias. Cuando salgo y ella necesita más dinero, en contacto con mi amigo, el General George Halvers. Es un codeudor de mi cuenta."_ (When I leave and she needs more money, contact my friend and neighbor there, General George Halvers. He is a co-signer on my account.)

 _"¿_ Quien vino y habló al Tank?" (The one who came and talked to Tank?)

 _"Sí, he preguntado le para hablar y ayudar a Stephanie cuando está en Georgia. Me ayudó hace años."_ (Yes, I've asked him to talk and help Stephanie when he's in Georgia. He helped me years ago.)

 _"¿Cuánto sabe?"_ (How much does he know?)

 _"Todo. Si no vengo casa hará cargo de cuidar de ella, por un tiempo."_ (Everything. If I don't come home he will take over looking after her, for a while.)

 _"¿A dónde vas?"_ (Where are you going?"

 _"_ Me voy al infierno, otra vez." (I'm going to Hell, again.)

I figured now was the time to ask his help with my work, _"_ _Necesito discutir algoritmos de computadora_ ," I said quietly. (I need to discuss computer algorithms.

He replied, " _Mi oficina está segura_." (My office is secure.)

I nodded.

"So how much English do you know?" I asked with a gleem in my eye.

His voice dropped, "I was born here. I understand everything, except your Panamania."

I laughed out loud and gave him a punch. Tank looked over with questioning eyes.

"Hector says he can't understand my Panamanian." I offered as an explanation.

Several of the guys looked confused, but said nothing. I hoped they didn't think Panamanian was a different language.

During my conversation with Hector the storm passed. Was he engaging me in conversation to get me through the storm? Maybe I was being generous, but I've discovered of all the Rangemen he was the most intimidating but if he liked you, he was extremely loyal. He adorned Stephanie and I think he liked me.

When the poker game ended, and the men left for the night, Bobby held back. "I watched you at the table and talking with Hector. Astraphobia?"

I nodded, "I was stuck as a child. It's the second of three phobias."

"What's the third, I should know," he asked.

"Yes, it would be a good idea: Ice on the face or chest; it goes back to the assault."

He mumbled, "Good thing I asked."

I kissed him on the cheek, "You are a good medic." Being around these men have made me awfully friendly and kissy. Is this part of being a woman?

Though the storm was over, another blew in several hours later. Normally if I hear the storms coming I'm can deal with them through various meditation practices as well as sound and light dampening actions. But if an intense storm catches me while I sleep and wakes me up, I have problems. This second storm was a humdinger and I awoke screaming, "Sarah!"

Tank must have thought I was having another drug reaction. When he entered my bedroom a lightning bolt hit near the house and I froze eyes wide. He crawled into my bed and stopped. When I was hallucinating he didn't know about my touch phobia and I believed I was a little girl with her daddy. How would I react this time?

"Frosyni can I hold you?"

I couldn't move, I was frozen in place. He wrapped his arms around me and rolled me to his chest. I trembled like a frightened puppy. He kissed my head and said, "I'm here now. Give me your fears." It was a ridiculous thing to say, but it soothed me even as more lightning struck nearby. I listened to his breathing and eventually went back to sleep.

The next morning we awoke at the same time, his arms still around me. I was mortified and it probably showed on my face.

"You are afraid of storms?" he asked.

"Only intense lightning if I'm caught by surprise." Did I really want to share this with him too? He must think I'm a basket case.

"I was 10 when my friend Sarah and I were hit by lightning. She took the direct hit, I was close enough to get hit as well. When I came to I saw Sarah but I couldn't get to her, I was paralyzed. I couldn't move, I couldn't talk, I could only watch. The base MPs were first to arrive and then the medics. They worked hard to get her heart started, even rushing her to the base hospital. It was no use. She died. It took a couple of hours for my body to start working. I have a burn scar on my lower back.

"I've always kept a supply of ear plugs, eye masks, black out shades, anything to keep from being awakened like I was last night. They were lost in the fire."

He wrapped his arms around me again but said nothing for a while. "George said you had issues."

I chuckled, "If he meant my phobias, you now know the three; lightning, ice on the face and touch. All are related to life experiences. You can relax; I don't have superstitions or other irrational beliefs. I've lead an active life and things have happened, I've dealt well with most, just not all. I'm not complaining, they've made life more…challenging."

I raised myself onto his chest, "Do you realize last night was the first time I've shared my bed with a man?" I asked with wonder in my voice.

He kissed the top of my head again. "It has been a long time since I've spent the whole night in a woman's bed...if I ever have," he said with a puzzled look on his face.

"You had to stay, you were probably frustrated because you didn't get anything," I teased.

"I got to hold you, Ku `u Lei."

I still didn't know what it meant, but I knew I was going to like it.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

FF did not give notification **Chapter 17 was posted** earlier this week. They said they had a glitch. Apparently we got lost, but the chapter is up.

 **Efrosyni POV**

It was Sunday afternoon. We had attended church and were planning on a quiet day at home. Tank's phone rang, he was called into the office. I decided to tag along as I was flying off to Washington at O Dark Thirty tomorrow and we'd be away from each other for a while. While Tank attended to the problem, I wandered down to the gym.

"There's my coach" Jason chuckled, "Bink, she needs to give you some lessons."

Ram and Bink were on the mats and Bink was seriously outclassed. Before he became dog food I offered to give him some pointers as I had Jason months before.

"You guys have a chest protector for me? I don't want to make my ribs unhappy."

Vince returned with a helmet, new mouth guard, and chest protector. "Tank is going to have a fit," he said quietly.

"More likely Bobby," I replied.

"Don't let this gear scare you Ram, I have to remain pretty for tomorrow, no visible bruises.

He laughed.

"OK, this is training demo, not title fight. I'll stop and explain to Bink and then invite him in for you to test….carefully. Got that?"

He nodded. After some early rounds my rust was knocked off and I was back in form. Ram had to work hard. My fighting style was not strictly regulation hand to hand but a combination of many different fighting forms which was giving Ram fits, "What the heck was that?" he'd say as he moved back to regroup. Bink was a fast learner, but Ram was being careful under my watchful eye.

I did not see Tank come in until he stepped onto the mats between Ram and me. "What the hell are you doing?" his thunderous voice boomed.

"I'm instructing Bink with Ram's help. Get your own gear if you are going to stay here" and I sent him gently but positively to the mat with a Judo throw.

He gave me a wicked grin, "You want to play?"

I smiled, "Bring it on, mister."

He stripped down on top.

"Hey, no fair, I don't have much to grab hold," I kidded. "I do," he smiled. I looked at my t-shirt and started to remove by t-shirt testing Tank.

"Whoa, stop!" He thundered.

I was down to my sports bra and said in front of the rest of the men, "I still have straps you can grab, I need to eliminate those as well."

"Lady, put you shirt back on," he ordered.

"Put yours back on so we are even."

The men were snickering. Actually the men had seen me in my workout bra many times. Apparently Tank had forgotten or had become very possessive.

Once we were properly dressed again I added, "Care with the shoulder and hip, Bobby would kill both of us."

He shook his head in agreement and we began. It started slow just feeling each other's strengths and weaknesses. The four inches he had on me in height was to my disadvantage so I was careful. Years ago _Silat_ training taught me how to get inside, through and back out against someone taller. The throws were fun but neither of our shirts survived much grabbing; they were hanging open. Eventually they were tossed aside. Our kicks and hits started out mild but grew in intensity. He was agile; but I was more, easily leaping and twisting away from him.

"Who do you think you are, Bruce Lee?" He asked. If we were closer to a wall, I'd show him some cool moves. It took me a long time to perfect them, being taller was my disadvantage, I wanted to show off.

Men were filing into the gym and those on monitors were ignoring their work when Bobby stepped onto the 5th floor and noticed all the interest on the gym monitor.

"What is going on?" He asked casually.

"Tank and the colonel are on the mats. It's hard to say who is winning; they are really going after each other."

"Son of a…" Bobby exclaimed as he ran down the hall.

Bobby came through the double doors with a bellow, Tank and I stopped, everyone turned to Bobby, "Damn it Forsyni, you should know better, do you want to go back to the hospital? What the hell are you doing?"

I spit out my mouth guard as I looked at Tank and winked, "Foreplay."

Bobby and everyone else froze. Then the room exploded in laughter. I looked at Tank as I removed my helmet and he was also removing his protection and we hugged. He reached behind and undid the chest protector and dropped it to the floor. We hugged, kissed and he ran his hands all over my back, arms and shoulders and I returned the touch.

We were actually touching and kissing in public for the first time. If the guys didn't know there was something between us, now they knew.

"Get a room," Lester called and the guys continued to laugh.

"Oh, no, no, no," I countered. "Look what he had to do to get me to first base. If he tries to steal second he'll be in a wheelchair."

Tank whispered in my ear, "Thank you for avoiding my privates."

I just chuckled and avoided any comment though I had plenty of thoughts running through my head.

"Do you have injuries?" he asked.

"A few bruises Mr. Sherman, you are solid and pack quite a wallop."

"Need ice?" he asked. Suddenly his eyes shot wide open, "Phobia 1 subclause a: ice on the face and chest."

"I'm fine Tank, my hands are messy and arm took a few hits, though," I said as I rubbed my arm.

Bobby looked at Tank, "You two need ice?"

Tank smiled, "Since you are passing it out….."

The session on the mats was the physical interaction we had been yearning for. We found ourselves touching and kissing one another freely now. I was twenty plus years late in learning how to neck. I found with a little advanced warning, this touching was quite enjoyable.

We were watching a baseball game on TV when I asked him, "Want something?" I was thinking food or drink, apparently he had other ideas. He pulled me onto his lap and we began some serious lip and tongue explorations. Soon he asked if he could put his hands under my t-shirt. I thought he was interested in my abdomen and back. After a few tentative breast touches I froze. "No baby, slow down. I'm still working on touch, I'm not ready to overhaul my religious beliefs and become sexually active."

He nodded, "Lady, you are a good role model for me. I've never had to control myself before."

"I'm playing the statistics. Those who live together and are sexually involved before marriage have higher rates of divorce or dissatisfaction. I've already broken the living together, let's not smash the second as well. If I wed, I'm doing it for life."

000

Our discussions on marriage with my priest had come to a curious crossroads, children. I had not looked that far ahead. I was barely comfortable with kissing variations.

Military marriage often means the couple lives apart for long periods. This was probably our future. I knew I had at least one deployment in my future and after I hoped I'd remain stateside to finish out my 20 years. I didn't know how far I could go in the Army, but a full bird colonel seemed beyond me judging from my slow start, so checking out at 20 seemed logical. Would I be too old by then to bear children?

What about my biological time limits as I wasn't getting any younger, indeed I was a couple of years older than Tank. As we drove home from the counseling I noticed he was deep in thought.

"Where is your mind?" I asked.

"Children."

I chuckled, "We really are developing ESP. That's what's been bothering me too."

He took a deep breath, "If possible, I would like children, but neither of us are youngsters."

"Are you wondering if I'll be in menopause by the time we get around to it?"

He jerked his head, "No, no, that's not what I was thinking. I was wondering if I can tolerate adolescents without killing them."

I groaned, "Maybe we should just be celibate friends."

His eye closed to nearly shut, "Please tell me you are only kidding."

"Well, Mr. Sherman we are going to have to get serious someday and do more in depth talking about our relationship.

We are in marriage counseling…

…To determine if we are suitable for one another. There are other steps.

"Hearts and flowers?"

If you think that's my style, then we are seriously off course.

You like more direct approaches?

"Yeah, once the objective has been determined, recon, then move forward.

He shook his head as he slowed and stopped for the traffic light, grabbed my hand and said, "Efrosyni Pappas will you marry me?"

Well, I said direct approach. I paused a long time, maybe too long because he was showing some apprehension. "Yes, Pierre Sherman, I will marry you, but children will have to wait until after my next deployment."

He processed that for a second or two and broke into a wide grin. "I hope we don't have to wait too long to get married, I'm barely hanging on."

I touched his face, "There's always Lula."

He scowled, "That's not even funny."

OOOOO

Unfortunately my trip to Washington was to inform me my deployment time table was not only advanced, it was for a mission I thought was still sitting on the shelf.

For several years I and others were working to neutralize a major problem. Politicians thought they could make the problem go away through negotiations without supervision and inspection. My mission was put on indefinite hold and eventually was sent to Ft. Dix with a new assignment.

But the problem was back bigger than before. Since I was no longer directly involved, new leadership took my plan and started the ball rolling again. But a helicopter crash had wiped out the new leaders. Suddenly I was back on board. I was now flying to Ft. Bragg every Monday and returning on Fridays. I couldn't divulge the nature of the assignment to Tank or others, but stressed it could be very dangerous.

Tank and I went to my priest to discuss our options. I fully expected him to tell us to get married in a civil ceremony and when I return come back for the church wedding. But he brought up one point; if I were to be killed I'd be denied an Orthodox burial. When the priest said, "I was afraid this might happen. You and Pierre come by tomorrow after work and let's talk."

The next night the priest said, "I've talked to your priest Pierre and I've talked to my bishop, both agree there are extenuating circumstances, you two could be married soon." We were stunned.

"How soon," I asked knowing things move slow in the Orthodox Church.

Normally the church marriage certificate takes eight weeks or more. You'll have yours in five weeks. If you don't want a big Saturday wedding, you could get married Friday evening, the seventh."

I responded, "I report ten days later."

The priest smiled, "Then it will be a short honeymoon."

I had put off my talk with Hector as my concerns back then were marginal. Now I was back in the thick of it. Though I had worked on the mission for several years, I still had issues and wasn't sure the new leadership understood or found solutions. It was time to talk to Hector.

I made my way down to the Rangeman basement, knowing I was on monitors upstairs but also with Hector. I carried a plate full of _polvorones,_ _biscochitos_ and other Mexican cookies. That should open the door.

Before I could knock the door swung open to a smiling Hector, which was different.

 _"_ _Necesito escogerte un bello cerebro de computadora,"_ ( I need to pick a beautiful computer brain) I said.

 _"_ _¿Estás intentando sobornarme?"_ Are you trying to bribe me?

 _"_ _No quiero que los hombres del quinto piso tengan ideas sobre nosotros."_ I don't want the men on the 5th floor to get ideas about us.

We both laughed. Everyone knew Hector was gay.

We spent 4 or 5 hours working together until Tank called to say he was ready to leave.

"You and Hector working on something?" he asked as we walked to our own vehicles in the Rangeman garage.

"The man is a genius, I needed some help with what I'll be doing.

Tank knew better than to ask.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

 **The wedding**

Once again FF/JE has not posted a message indicating I have added new chapters. I don't know why I'm so blessed, at least they are attached to the story. Please note I've changed the rating from M to T, I couldn't bring myself to publish the intimate details of their activities. Efrosyni and Tank need their privacy.

 **Efrosyni POV**

Rangeman Fridays usually end with beer at Pino's, barbeque or poker at Tank's house. This time Tank said there'd be something a bit more upscale for Friday. They all knew I was leaving in ten days so assumed this would be a good by party. Dress code was "clean," no bloody or torn clothes uniform or casual clothes were fine. At 1800 hours, 6 p.m. everyone not on duty was to meet in the parking garage.

Those not working plus Ella and Louis gathered, trading party location guesses. Ella and Louis knew but played along with the guessing game. When everyone was assembled, Ella pulled a stack of envelopes from her purse. The message inside told those assembled to proceed to an address in north Trenton. "What is this, a treasure hunt?" Lester asked.

When they arrived at the address they saw it was St. George Church. Bobby smirked, "I bet they are getting married." Nearly every man present became upset they had not had a chance to throw Tank a bachelor's party.

An usher met them at the front door, handed them the wedding program explaining an Orthodox wedding, and told them to go forward to the front pews with the others present and to remain standing. Many Manoso family members were already present. Almost immediately the chanter came out along with the priest. The priest stepped forward and said, "Due to orders, Efrosyni has to leave in a few days. She and Pierre have accelerated their wedding plans."

After the Sunday afternoon event in the gym, most Rangeman men knew Tank and Frosyni were getting serious, but a wedding? Most guys were worried about Stephanie and Ranger and here Tank slipped in under the radar.

Immediately the chanter began singing "Ave Maria," the only non-Orthodox hymn that can be sung prior to the service. Tank and another man came through a door from behind the altar and stood next to the priest. The man was Costa Eliopoulous from Atlanta Rangeman. Like all Rangeman, he was muscular and fit, but six inches shorter than Tank. As people looked forward at Tank and his best man, both in form fitting Armani suits, I came down the aisle on the arm of General George Halvers, the man who was my sole support after my mother died. There was no Wagner Wedding March, just the Ave Maria. If it hadn't been for Father Paul's smile I believe my approach with George would have gone unnoticed by our guests.

I wore a simple cream colored sleeveless dress Ella had whipped up on her magical sewing machine. To cover my arms I had a Bolero jacket. It was not a traditional wedding gown, at least I didn't get married in uniform! Tank had purchased a lovely pearl necklace and earrings for me to wear. The first such fine jewelry I've ever owned.

Ella insisted I wear lady shoes. Did she really think I'd wear boots or sneakers? My shoes were only 4 inch heels. As much as I hated to wear heels, the occasion required them, but they made me an inch taller than George and equal in height to Tank. They didn't quite match the dress but when you wear a size 14 or 15, beggars can't be choosers.

As the wedding ceremony continued, many guests consulted their programs. This was not a five minute justice of the peace wedding. While many parts were similar to other Christian wedding, there were differences. The program explained the crowns' as the glory and honor God crowns the couple during the marriage sacrament indicating the couple are the king and queen of their home which they will rule with wisdom, justice and integrity.

Another difference is when the priest takes the right hands of the Bride and Groom and leads them around a small table that held the wedding rings, book of Gospels, cup of communion wine and two white candles. The walk around the table signifies the first steps together as husband and wife.

At the conclusion of the service, the guests were milling around outside the church. George Halvers came out and announced, "I have a message from Pierre…...'Next stop Marcello's."

We had discussed Pino's but decided it was a little too informal, Shorty's was even more so. The reserved room was undecorated at our insistence. We knew the Manoso girls would try to go overboard. We were striving for simple and elegant. Several flower urns filled with pink and white roses had balloons attached to them with "congratulations" in glitter. We had the waitress quietly remove the balloons as the party continued.

There was no getting out of a wedding cake. Mari and her daughters made several different layer cakes and placed them on various size stands leaving the tallest stand for the Bride's cake. That one was decorated pink and white roses.

"Ah, Tank, aren't we a little casually dressed for a wedding?' Hal asked as he came through the receiving line.

"Frosyni and I felt just a couple of us dressed would be enough. We just wanted you with us without all the fuss," Tank explained. "Plus I'd have to loan you one of my suits." Hal laughed and punched his shoulder, "Baloney!"

Bobby came up to Tank, "Why was Costa your best man?" There was a hint of hurt in his voice.

Tank responded, "I needed an Orthodox best man, Bobby. I'm sorry."

Ram piped in, "That was one long service, if it had not been for the program I would not have understood what was going on. Rings first?

I laughed, "That's why I thought you guys needed the program. There are six parts of the service.

"No wedding march?" Ella asked?

Costa chimed in, "No, not in an Orthodox Christian church. Remember in the Wagner opera that was a wedding between pagans."

"But no music at all?" Ella continued.

"Singing only in the Orthodox church," I answered, "We don't provide a concert."

Mari came up, "That was the most moving ceremony I've ever attended."

"Thank you, I said. You were paying attention. People are quick to criticize without even listening."

"I thought it would all in Greek," Louis said.

"There are still Orthodox churches that speak only Greek, Romanina, Slavonic, or Arabic but their congregation numbers are falling. More and more their services are mostly English as that's what the people speak."

The Manosos knew most of the Rangeman and enjoyed being with them. Anton came up to me, "Thank you for including us in your wedding. I now have another daughter."

I responded, "You are Tank's family and Javier said I was invited as well. Of course you were going to be here." He gave me a big fatherly hug and then quickly drew back, "Sorry, I forgot."

"No problem, Tank has been working with me."

He gave me another hug and whispered, "He adores you."

I smiled back, "Feeling is mutual. He is my rock, my heart and…my everything."

When Tank and I made my way to a group of Rangeman, Lester looked crestfallen, "We didn't get to throw you a bachelor's party."

"You'll have to settle that issue with Frosyni, Tank laughed. When they turned with raised eyebrows to ask why, I said, "We can discuss it on the mats."

"Not me," Ram said putting his hands up. "Been there, done that."

I let them off the hook, "Guys, there just wasn't time. After I'm gone, take him out and have a good time. Just don't introduce him to any pretty women."

"That won't be a problem," Bobby said, "None are as beautiful as you. He only has eyes for you."

I was stunned. "All my life I've considered myself a freaky giant. Outside of my parents, I've never been called lovely or beautiful…until I met all of you. Pardon me if I don't respond correctly."

Bobby hugged me and said, "You are beautiful inside and out, but then, I've seen your Xrays."

That got me laughing and I gave him another cheek kiss.

He smiled and said, "Any more of those and Tank is going to pound me into mush."

As the party continued I took George Halvers aside, "Have you talked to Steph?"

"She's doing fine. She and I have had some serious conversations and I think she is well on her way."

I added, "I have Hector watching her medical bills. I've told him to contact you if her doctor's account goes into the red again. Plus, I'm leaving bread crumbs for Tank. If Manoso is declared dead, he should be the one to tell her."

"Which one is Hector?"

I laughed, "You are going to love him. How is your Spanish?"

"Not too bad," he said gruffly.

"It's OK, he speaks English but doesn't want others to know; try to converse with him in Spanish until you two are out of earshot of others." I was still chuckling as I led him to Hector.

" _Hector, quiero presentar_..." (Hector, I want to present…)

Before I could finish Hector had his hand out, "General Halvers."

I took a quick peek at George and he was not bewildered by Hector's tattoos. I wanted to stay and listen but I had other guests.

After a delicious dinner many people stood and offered us their best wishes and serious chiding for springing the event on them. Costa from Rangeman Atlanta rose and started, "I can't tell you have dumbfounded I was when Tank called and asked me to the _koumbaro,_ best man, at his wedding. First of all I never expected he would find a woman who would put up with his monosyllabic language. For years I thought Tank could only grunt."

That brought many chuckles.

Then when he told me he was marrying a Greek-Panamanian I had to come to town to meet her. Tank and I were at the Afghan restaurant by Ft. Dix when in walks this lovely tall woman officer. Even before she spotted us, I knew immediately this was the one for Tank. Who else was self-assured enough to put up with his foul moods. When she arrived at the table I saw something I had never seen before, Tank smile. And I still don't believe it, he's still smiling. Efrosyni, prior to meeting you I knew of only 7 wonders in the world, you my dear are the 8th. You have taken this grouchy rock of a man and made him human. I wish both of you many happy years together."

The bull in the china closet felt by all the Rangeman and especially the Mansos' was Ranger's absence. Costa had been informed prior to the service and knew not to bring it up. How difficult it must be for them to attend this ceremony without their son, Tank's best friend, present.

After Costa sat down, George stood up.

"Some years ago, probably neither Frosyni nor I want to contemplate the exact number, I had the privilege of meeting a remarkable young lady. I had the honor of serving with her father, Sam Pappas. When politics got in the way of her entry to West Point, I was asked to intervene. Some months later when her mother was killed and Frosyni lay in the hospital I was called by the hospital as the only contact they could find. She had no other family. It was my honor and privilege to serve this fine lady once again. Over the years we have remained close developing something of a father daughter relationship.

Earlier this year Frosyni was injured and once again providence brought her someone new into her life, Pierre. I was very much a concerned father, worried about her welfare and impact on her career with this unknown man. Once I met Tank and the rest of you; Dr. Brown, Ella and you men of Rangeman my concerns were eliminated. You have not only healed her, but also healed her heart that has been broken for so many years and in doing so brought forth a wondrous new woman. Thank you all.

"Efrosyni, I can't tell you how proud I am of you today. You have grown into a beautiful woman as well as a fine officer. Even if you were not my surrogate daughter, I still consider you one of the best officers in service today.

"It's been hard to be hands off with your career especially in the beginning. But I've watched you overcome obstacles and grow with each experience. But this time I'm giving you advice, both as a senior officer but also as a father: You will be leaving soon. Be damn careful now that you have such a fine husband to come home to."

Anton Manoso stood. "When my son Carlos came home one day to ask us if Pierre could live with us, I wasn't sure what to say. You had lost your family, run away from the foster home and came through our door with an attitude rivaling Carlos'. Your hair was a giant Afro, your pants were too short, shoes had holes. My mother Rosa took one look at you, grabbed her car keys and told you to get into the car. You were afraid she was returning you to your foster family. Instead she was taking you shopping. When you returned Mama Rosa said, "He stays." I think that was the day you were reborn. Prior to that you were a hormonal out of control teenager, but as you sat at the kitchen table surrounded by bags of new clothes, eating a sizeable snack before dinner, four sandwiches I believe, you began to settle down. Over time you took interest in school and sports, winning a football scholarship to Rutgers and completing your degree. I don't know what epiphany you and Mama had that day, but I thank God Carlos brought you to us. You are our third son a dear to us as the other two." Anton stopped for a minute then continued, "While you continue to make us proud we knew your heart was missing something. When you brought this lovely woman to our home and we saw the twinkle in your eyes, we relaxed. You had found your missing piece, your happiness. Today my family and I rejoice in your wedding with Efrosyni and pray God continues to bless you."

OK, I was ready to cry but held my tears and just kissed Tank, squeaking a little "help" along the way. Thankfully he stood and began by graciously thanked everyone for their attendance and kind thoughts and how everyone here, even Costa, was family. I'm sure some in attendance had never heard him speak more than a few words and were surprised by his loquaciousness.

I hadn't planned to speak but when the eyes bore into me I stood. "I'm tempted to say 'ditto' as I have a wonderful slice of cake in front of me and cannot wait to get back to it." I paused to collect my thoughts, "Last January my apartment complex blew up and I had the misfortune to be in the midst of the devastation. I lost a friend in that fire, Mrs. Grey, an elderly lady who always had a kind word for everyone she met. May her memory be eternal. But the day she died another kind person came into my life. He handed me a bottle of water and told me I looked… barbequed. He may have been nearly monosyllabic initially, I don't remember. What I do remember is he sat with me, in the hospital, keeping me awake in conversation for 24 hours as my head injury was being monitored. Once again I don't clearly remember much about what we talked about but at the end I now realize he was breaching my emotional fortress. I have sealed myself up from emotions for too many years, allowing only my…father, George….into my life. Tank has also lived a closed emotional life. Together we have opened each other's hearts; we are learning how to breathe in life. I've always tried to be as strong as possible, but now I have more strength because I know there is someone, standing beside me who will accept me if I succeed or fail because he loves me. An added bonus is he comes with family. No longer is it just George and me but now I have Tank, the Manosos and the men of Rangeman. Yes, one can live a life closed up onto them self but ultimately it is an empty life. We can excel at what we do, be the very best but we are only living for ourselves. We need to turn out, to live for God but also to one another; to share what we have with others; the love we have in us, the kindness and caring I know pervades this room. You are the people Tank and I love…maybe except for you Lester. We thank you from our hearts for coming this evening and sharing our joy.

 _The smut part has been eliminated. Tank and Efrosyni deserve their privacy_.

There was no time for a honeymoon, I was lucky to get a couple of days free. Suffice to say our first night together was quite an adventure for the both of us. If I had any doubts about his concern for me, they disappeared our first night together. Every step from undressing me to post coital snuggling he explained what was happening. Several times I had flash backs to the rape, but he patiently and carefully got me through each one.

When we finished our first joining, he held me closely, "Did I hurt you?"

"No, you were fine, kind and gentle."

"Frosyni, thank you for making me wait until our wedding. This means so much more to me. All my life I've fucked women, tonight I truly made love to a lady, the lady, the woman I love with all my heart."

As the sun rose we were still awake, not having slept much. "Well Mr. Sherman, you spent the whole night with a woman," I teased.

He smiled, "I did and I got some, well actually more than some, Ku `u Lei, my beloved."

Several days later, I left work early and drove to the Plum house. Edith Mazur was at the front door and her eyes grew wide when she saw a 6'2" solider in camo uniform walking to the front door. "Mrs. Edna Mazur?"

"Are you a real soldier or are you just dressing up? Halloween isn't until the end of October." If I wasn't so primed for ass chewing I would have laughed.

"Real ma'am. I've come to speak to you and Mr. and Mrs. Plum."

Edna let me in, "Helen, Frank, there's a soldier here to see you."

Frank put his paper down, turned and stared. Helen came out from the kitchen wiping her hands on a dish towel.

"Mr. and Mrs. Plum, Mrs. Mazur, I am Lt. Colonel Efrosyni Pappas-Sherman, I have information you need to know."

"I doubt that," Mrs. Plum said, "We have nothing to hear from black thugs."

I was somewhat stunned. Stephanie did say she had a problem with people of color. OK my skin tone was light caramel, I was wearing a minimizing bra, my hair was short, my voice lower than most women's, did she think I was a man?

I looked into Mrs. Plum's eyes, they were mean. This was going to be ugly.

"I'm here about Stephanie."

With that Helen Plum flew into a tirade. She came rushing towards me, "Don't you ever speak that whores name in this house….."

I thought of Joe Morelli and the knife incident and was relieved to see no weapon, dish cloths don't count unless in skilled hands. She was no threat to me.

Edna grabbed her daughter and slapped her across the face. Frank yelled, "That's enough Helen, we can't afford to let your mouth run loose in front of strangers. Let's listen to the Colonel." The combination quieted the woman for a moment.

Mrs. Plum was close enough to me so I could smell her breath. Yes, she had had a few drinks but her eyes were not bloodshot or watery. I thought about the comment about letting her mouth run loose in front of strangers. Did the Rangeman attorney put some serious consequences on the Plum family for Helen's claim Stephanie had been gang raped?

Frank looked at me, "I'm sorry about that, Colonel, please continue."

I thought everything Stephanie told me about her mother's recent actions were an exaggeration. My suspicions were confirmed; this lady was not only drinking, but probably rapidly losing her hold on reality. She apparently had been a decent woman, but was slipping away. Did her family realize? Would she even understand what I was about to say?

"As you already know, the baby's father is not Joseph Morelli. Mr. Morelli left Trenton at the end of October without telling his family. He wanted a new start outside of Trenton and the Burg. He was gone before Stephanie became pregnant."

Mrs. Plum started to comment but was quickly hushed by her husband. Frank nodded at me to continue.

The baby's father is a highly decorated US Army Captain who has been captured in combat. We are not even sure he is still alive."

I noticed Mrs. Mazur had her hand up to her mouth. She apparently knew Carlos Manoso was the father.

"Mrs. Plum, you never gave Stephanie a chance to explain Joseph was been gone since November first, nearly three and one half months before you realized Stephanie was pregnant. Did she look 14 weeks pregnant?"

"Three weeks, three months, she's pregnant, she has to marry Joe," Helen wailed and started weeping.

"Why should she marry someone who is not the baby's father?" I asked.

"Who else would want that tramp?" she spat.

Whoa, rapid mood changes. I waited for either Mr. Plum or Mrs. Mazur to contradict Mrs. Plum's comment about Stephanie being a tramp, but they didn't. Did they condone the comment?

I continued, "Stephanie as well as hundreds across the country became pregnant due to a failure of the birth control vaccination. It's been in the news. Apparently the only news you are interested Mrs. Plum is Burg lies and gossip many of which you start yourself."

"I've read about it in the paper," said Mr. Plum.

"And it didn't occur to you your daughter may be one of the victims?" I scolded. "Is it her fault the company's vaccination failed?"

"She's been living with you black thugs at Rangeman?" Helen shot back.

"Shut up Helen"...her husband admonished.

Yes, Rangeman's attorney laid down some serious threats on the Plums.

"Ma'am, I in the Army, I do not work for Rangeman."

Before I had to explain further, I started again, "Stephanie was working at Rangeman supplementing her income as a bond apprehension agent. Her work included detailed background checks on prospective new employees and new clients as well as a search coordinator, finding people when other's failed. She excelled as a search coordinator earning the respect of all the Rangeman employees. Contrary to the lies and rumors Joe Morelli spread about Rangeman, in reality most are specially trained, former military men who maintain their body strength and training due to their security work. They must be ready at a moment's notice to work not only in the Trenton area but also anywhere in the world they are called by private individuals, businesses, and governments.

The men at Rangeman have a very strict honor code. They consider Stephanie a valued employee and gave her the upmost respect something she did not receive from her own family or from those who participated in the evil gossip hotline."

I'm not sure Helen was listening but Mr. Plum and Mrs. Mazur were.

"Mrs. Plum, why did you keep pushing her into a minimal wage job? Did you have little regard for her abilities or were you trying to prevent her from becoming self-supportive thus forcing her to be a Burg housewife like your other daughter?"

She ignored me.

I continued, "Mrs. Plum, why did you drive your daughter from her family by calling her a slut and a whore? Was it so you could be a martyr here in the Burg perhaps garnering sympathy or perverted status from other women? How long did it take you to pick up the phone after she left your house to tell the community about her pregnancy? Did you really mean to eviscerate her, tear out her heart and smash any love she may have had for you?"

Frank glared at his wife.

"She's a whore Frank, she's always been a whore ever since Joe took her behind the pastry counter."

"So she should marry Joe now? I don't understand Mrs. Plum."

"She asked for it. She should have married Joe back then. Marrying him is the only way to redeem herself," Helen shot back.

"Redeem her with whom?" I asked.

"With God of course."

"Mrs. Plum you speak for God? Isn't that blasphemy?"

Her face was blank.

"Have you ever truly loved Stephanie? Or do you resent she could not be controlled like Valerie?"

I glared at Mr. Plum, "Apparently Mr. Plum you have no clue what has been happening in your home. Did you know Joe Morelli wrote about his sexual conquest of your daughter on the stadium walls and men's restrooms? Or did you choose to ignore it? Do you know why he calls her Cupcake? Mostly it was due to cunnilingus that day in the bakery."

Frank stood stunned. Did he think the name was one of endearment?

"Mr. Plum, are you aware your wife convinced her daughter to marry an attorney because it was a prestigious occupation to raise the Plum's Burg status after her sexual encounter with Joseph and several years later running him over with the car?

Frank Plum looked uneasy. "That was an accident."

"Sir, you know it wasn't an accident. Your wife was throwing the bakery incident in Stephanie's face for two years. The pressure was constant until Stephanie cracked. But did anyone think maybe Stephanie needed counseling? No because it might harm your Burg standing. Burg people don't have mental problems; instead they drink to excess, abuse drugs, or beat their wives.

Turning back to face them all, I continued, "Stephanie has left Trenton, probably permanently. Instead of worrying about your standing in the Burg's cesspool of gossip, rumors and lies, Mrs. Plum think of the baby who will never know his father, or the baby who will never know his family here. Mr. Plum and Mrs. Mazur do you realize you will never see Stephanie and the baby due to your wife's actions?"

The possibility was sinking into Frank's mind.

Helen's eyes glared, "I don't want that whore or her bastard child in my house. She ruined our family name."

"Mrs. Plum, between your drinking, your participation in the Burg hideous lies, rumors and gossip at your daughter's expense, accusations against Rangeman, and your most recent action against Joseph Morelli with the butcher knife, you have destroyed the Plum name."

She probably didn't understand anything I had said, but maybe the other two did. With that I turned and walked out the door. Edna and Frank followed.

"Stephanie told me the father was Ranger," said Edna.

"Yes ma'am. Captain Carlos Manoso is a highly trained and highly decorated operative for the government and US Army."

"He's a spy?" she asked.

"No ma'am, he has specialized skills. When his skills are needed, he is called back into service otherwise he is the CEO of a very successful security service."

"Is he dead?"

"We don't know, Mrs. Mazur. There is a strong possibility he is."

"Ranger is the father?" Mr. Plum suddenly realized.

"Yes, Stephanie loved Ranger but was torn between trying to please her mother and stay with Joe or have whatever relationship she could with Mr. Manoso."

"Can you tell me where my daughter is?" asked Frank.

"No sir, at her request. She was devastated by her mother's accusations including the impact it had upon her associates at Rangeman. Maybe, in time when she has a new life free of the Burg she might contact you or her sister."

"Does anyone at Rangeman know where she is?"

"No sir and they too are very concerned. They truly admire and respect your daughter. Mr. Manoso and the other men of Rangeman have done more to help Stephanie with self-confidence issues than anyone in the Burg including her family."

"Does she have money?" Frank asked.

"Sir, NOW you care? Are you trying to buy back her love? You let your wife verbally and emotionally abuse your daughter, especially over the last few years and did nothing but read the newspaper and watch television. There were times she needed an advocate and you failed her. Joe Morelli failed her. The Trenton police failed her. The writers for the Trenton Times failed her. Only Carlos Manoso and the men of Rangeman Sercurity helped her."

He looked wounded. I didn't care.

"I gave her money to start her out." I uttered.

"Why? Are you her friend? Mrs. Mazur asked.

"I am married to Pierre Sherman, Mr. Manoso's second in command. You know him as Tank."

"Tank is gay?" Mrs. Mazur asked.

Once again this little lady had me wanting to laugh out loud, "No ma'am, I am a woman, a very tall muscular woman who is in short hair due my hair being burned some months ago."

"You don't have much up top, do you?" she said looking up at my chest.

"Ma'am, I'm wearing a very snug fitting minimizing bra. This way my uniform fits better." I wanted to laugh out loud again.

"You are married to the big quiet guy..." Frank began.

"Yes sir. You wife often referred to him as the big black thug or baboon she no doubt picked up from Joe Morelli. Pierre is a graduate of Rutgers, was a Special Forces Ranger with Captain Manoso. Both have received numerous commendations for their service to this and several foreign countries. Their security business in Trenton is but one of four across the country."

Mr. Plum, Stephanie and Ranger were not married. I do not know if he mentioned her in his will. But she is smart, far smarter than anyone here gave her credit. Stephanie has been emotionally repressed by her family and community. This sudden pregnancy and exit from Trenton will allow her to mature, discover her potential and care for herself and her child without all the baggage that comes from the Burg."

Stepping back, I said, "Mr. Plum, Mrs. Mazur, I suggest Mrs. Plum needs professional evaluation. I'm not sure her tirades can be blamed solely on alcoholism."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Once again FF is not updating my calendar to indicate new chapters being posted...hrumph. Thank you for checking back even without the notifications.

We are moving into the home stretch...

 **Frosyni POV**

I was in the Middle East. This has been my area of expertise since the Israelis helped set the trap for my saboteurs years before. Prior to the accident that wiped out the main team for my old mission, I would have been in a supervisory only; watching the big screen from a tactical center somewhere. Now I'm right in the middle again.

This mission is to end manufacturing a product that had the potential to harm, even kill millions. We are to steal any product and destroy all the equipment used to make it without contaminating the environment….too much. Simple, right? Add another layer; the facility is underground. Between possible contamination and the underground location, bombing the hell out of it isn't an option.

A sudden new wrinkle not known until the last minute is only 200 yards from the main facility, a temporary prison has been set up to hold people on their way for execution. In destroying the facility we might release harmful products that would kill the prisoners. What is a ridiculously complicated mission suddenly is now mind boggling.

As near as we could determine, there were no more than 30 prisoners at one time before they were moved on to the execution sites where their murders would become international propaganda. I couldn't in good faith leave them behind to either die of contamination or allow them to be taken on for execution. Like the spring day at Ft. Dix in the rain and mud, I would not leave these men and maybe women behind.

We need a team, trained in hostage rescue. All of ours were involved in other operations. Fortunately our allies also train in hostage rescue and have one team available at this short notice and require only a few weeks to fine tune their training.

Our assault was multinational so the aircraft came from several nations. Time tables and access routes were carefully planned, checked and rechecked so as not to tip off the enemy to the location and size of the assault.

Team One's job is to gain entry, grab any stored product and to evacuate scientists and other noncombatants. It's a big job requiring six helicopters. Building entry had been facilitated by informants along with our side's excellent training. The guards were eliminated. Scientists quickly surrendered. Our side suffered no injury or casualty. The manufactured products were removed. Team One left. This alone made an excellent mission.

The hastily devised rescue Team Two moved in to the prisoner camp while Team One was busy. The guards were conflicted whether to remain at the prison camp or fight for the facility. It didn't matter. The 26 prisoners were quickly hustled to the waiting helicopters and evacuated.

I was in Team Three, to sabotage of the facility. Since I wasn't doing anything physical other than punching computer keys, my recent injuries would not be a problem. It had taken years to learn how to access the machines' controls; fortunately security hadn't changed a great deal or the programs controlling the machines. I and another expert began down loading viruses to destroy the programs and to set the machinery against itself. Team One had set charges for us to detonate closing off underground tunnels eliminating power except for the containment devices. As planned, the machines began self-destructing. Contamination was being contained within the building. We were on site for 27 minutes, a very long 27 minutes.

As we left we detonated the charges and muffled explosions and dirt disturbances were the only indication the charges were successful.

Teams One and Two were gone, each leaving by different routes. We, Team Three, left on schedule and took our exit route. Just my luck, my Russian M16, one of the most reliable helicopters in the world, died on the way out.

 **Tank POV**

I was eating lunch at Rangeman's dining area when my phone indicated a call. My heart sank when I saw the caller's name. George Halvers.

"Pierre, this is General Halvers. Efrosyni's helicopter never returned. We've got drones up looking for it. If they are where we think they might be, there is no chance of rescue."

Bobby didn't need a medical degree to read my face to know something was wrong.

When I ended the call Bobby looked at him, "Bad news?"

"Frosyni's helicopter didn't return. They have drones up looking. It doesn't look good."

* * *

 **Tank in Georgia**

 **Tank POV**

I stood outside the condo in Columbus Georgia debating if I should ring the doorbell. Stephanie had returned from work, her stomach was quite round. At least she didn't abort the baby. My own heart was heavy regarding Efrosyni being MIA and Ranger status unknown. Maybe I could recapture some light by making sure she and Carlos' child were well and safe. I rang the bell.

"Tank?"

"Hello Baby Girl." I said softly. She wasn't quite as large as I expected. She was taking care of herself, not gaining excessive weight like her sister Valerie did.

"No, please..."

I froze. Was she going to faint? "No what?" I asked as I reached for her.

"Did you come to tell me Ranger is dead?" She wasn't weeping but on the verge.

"What do you know?" I knew George had already talked to her.

"He was captured and may be dead. My neighbor is General Halvers. He said he knows Frosyni."

"He does."

She stopped for a moment, "Did George or Frosyni tell you I was here?"

"No, I figured it out myself."

"Please come in." She stepped back and held the door. Once I was inside the air conditioned condo, she shut the door.

"How did you find me" Stephanie asked as she led me into a spacious two story condo decorated in comforting neutral tones. The house reminded me of Rangeman Trenton 7th floor.

"A federal credit union statement came to our house and I noticed a $15,000 withdrawal the day you left. Also there have been monthly utility bills automatically paid from the account. I've had Rangeman Atlanta watch this property."

Stephanie sat for a moment thinking, "You said the statement came to our house."

"Frosyni and I married before she shipped out."

"Tank that's great!" Sensing Tank's mood she asked, "How is she?"

He hesitated, "She's MIA."

Stephanie threw her arms around Tank, "Oh Tank, I'm sorry." Stephanie let go of Tank and shook her head, "If Frosyni is gone, who paid my doctor bill?"

The simple phrase: "So if Frosyni is gone" cut right into my heart. I shut my eyes and gave up a quick prayer before continuing, "You can thank Hector. Frosyni told him to keep an eye on you. He found the overdue bill and told George Halvers who withdrew the money from her account."

"I would have paid that bill, eventually."

To give both of them time to compose themselves, Stephanie made coffee for Tank. She still couldn't stomach coffee. After easing herself onto a bar stool again she asked, "Why are you here?"

"I came to see you and to find out what you need. This isn't easy Steph. Three people I deeply care about; Ranger and Frosyni missing maybe dead and you disappearing without a word."

There was the dreaded four letter word she was having a hard time accepting, dead. "I've been very frugal with the money Frosyni gave me. I've recently begun working full time so my electronic footprint is bigger. I'm not surprised Hector found me."

"He found you a long time ago but kept it quiet."

She wasn't surprised. Hector was Rangeman's paradox. Visually his gang tats warned people he had killed much like a solider wears ribbons and medals. Inside was a man capable of killing again but now controlled, kind and a technical genius. He was the electronics master from security systems to computers.

Stephanie looked directly at Tank, "I have to leave here by the end of the year, contract stipulations. I don't want Frosyni to get into trouble with the condo association. The company I work for has offices around the country. I'm looking at places to relocate."

"Back in Trenton?" I asked hopefully.

"I can't go back to Trenton, my family, the Morellis, Burg gossip. That's why I didn't tell anyone at Rangeman. I needed a clean break. If I had known about Ranger...I still would have left."

"We would take of care you and the baby."

"I know, Tank. Imagine all the uncles this boy would have," she said rubbing her stomach. "But just being in the building would have been painful and you seeing Ranger's child..."

"No Baby Girl, it is our job to take care of one another. I've always had his back and yours. He made it an order when he was away and part of his will. He would expect me to take care of his child as well."

"When did he do that?"

"It's been several years now. He figured someday he'd not come back. He made me retire from missions so I could look after you even if you married Morelli. He figured it wouldn't last."

She looked aghast, "What? Did he mean for you to marry me?"

"No, no, to look after you. He loves you even though he can't bring himself to think himself worthy of you."

"Worthy of me? Ranger unworthy? I thought I was the one messed up."

"Baby Girl, he's always been upfront with you but you refused to believe he had issues. He couldn't commit to you because you couldn't commit to your own safety. How often did he ask you to take the training? It was to help you be more aware and to protect yourself not only as a bounty hunter but in life with him. But you refused time after time, putting yourself and him in greater danger. He spent thousands, if not hundreds of thousands trying to keep you safe and you refused to accept responsibility. He was saving himself the devastation of you being seriously injured or killed because he couldn't get to you in time. He's not Batman, he's only a flesh and blood man.

"Tank, I can't go back. My family..."

"Your father put your mother into an alcoholic treatment center. They discovered she has other mental issues. She's in and out of treatment facilities now. You know Joseph moved away, he came back a couple of weeks after you left and found himself in a hell storm from his family, your family and Burg gossip. He cut all ties with Trenton and returned to St. Louis."

Stephanie got up and walked around the living area, "When General Halvers told me Ranger had been captured and possibly dead I considered aborting the fetus….but I couldn't. I then looked into adoptions, but this is Ranger's child. It may be the last contact I have with him. I can't part with his son, Julie's half brother. I know the baby and I are on our own. I am responsible for him and I will do my best to nurture, cherish and provide for him. Frosyni sending me down here was a God-send. Not only is it far from Trenton, but there are other women down here, Army wives and girlfriends who suffer from not knowing if their men are alive and coming home. We support one another. I've learned so much from them and the counsellors here. I've learned fear need not be paralysing but may be focusing, showing me the way to move. I'm looking ahead, planning my son's and my future. We are a family now."

"What about Ranger's family? Have you ever met them? Don't they deserve to know their grandchild?"

"Oh Tank, I can't..."

"I'll help you meet them. They are truly a loving family, unlike..."

"My own?"

"Yeah. When I lost my family, the Manosos took me in."

"You lived with Ranger?"

For a while until he went to juvie and _Abuelita Rosa_ in Florida. He went into the Army, I finished college then joined the Army. Stephanie the Manosos are incredible."

"Let me think about it. I don't want their monetary support so I need to get on my feet...whenever I see my feet again," she said looking down.

She stared out the front window, "I really screwed up."

"No, Baby Girl, the birth control failed."

"No, I screwed up. I could never commit to Joe because I loved Ranger. However, I thought Joe was stability. I was choosing life with a cop who I sorta loved but would stick around instead of love with Ranger who disappeared and always said he couldn't be what I needed. Joe left TPD and moved to a new town so I could join him. Together we'd start anew away from our families, away from the Burg. Maybe we could make it work. That one night with Ranger...New Year's Eve...he was leaving again, but he didn't know I was also leaving."

I was stunned. I never expected Stephanie would choose Joe.

"So you love Joe?" I quietly asked.

"No, but he was my friend. He knew he had control issues and was working on them and I was trying to be more understanding. I've seen him with his nieces and nephews; he'd be a great father. Without Ranger to distract me, I would have tried to make it work. People do it all over the world with arranged marriages."

I doubted it would have worked. She and Joe were like oil and vinegar, never totally blended together and constantly trying to pull apart. Children would not be an emulsifier, they further drive them apart. Stephanie would be stuck in St. Louis, divorced again and Ranger would be too emotionally damaged to go get her.

She continued to stared out the window, " Why did you get married Tank?"

"I never thought I would. When my family died I was devastated. I thought the Manosos' had healed me, but the wound was still there. I hurt too bad to care for someone else. I knew my life in the Army and contract work after would probably kill me. I would not allow another family to go through what I had gone through. Then I met Efrosyni. She had no family. The Army was her life as it had been mine. I found someone I wanted to care for and protect and a woman strong enough to tell me to get my head out of my ass. Each day I've known her I've seen a marvellous, complex lady emerging. It's rather like watching a chrysalis open and a beautiful butterfly emerge.

She supports me, encourages me but does not rule me, she loves me unconditionally. We are equals. Without knowing it, she lit a fire within me and apparently I within her. We were two wounded hearts that mended together.

She knew she had one more deployment and then we'd start a family. The mission she was sent on was something that had been shelved but pulled back at the last minute. She knew it would be dangerous. She was the one afraid of committing to a marriage before she had to leave, but in the end we decided if we were only together a short time we would have discovered love, peace, and fulfilment."

"How long were you married before she shipped off?"

"A little over a week."

Stephanie's mouth fell open. "Why did you even bother to get married?"

"That was church married. We had committed to each before that though we didn't begin sex until our wedding. In the months we've been together, I've never been more alive or whole."

Stephanie I don't know if Ranger is dead or alive, I pray he is alive and returns home. If he returns, what do you want me to tell him?"

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "He needs to know he has a son."

"And…?"

"I will always love him, but I need stability now. Julie has a step-father in addition to her mother, a stable life. I don't want our boy to see his father once in a while. Men are important part of a child's life, son or daughter. My son doesn't need a ghost father who pops in occasionally or a string of mother's boyfriends who don't give a damn about the child, just what they can get out of the mother. What does that teach a child? My life will be celibate until my son, our son, is grown."

"And if he doesn't return, will you allow us, me, to stay in touch? You know the guys and I will do anything for you. You are family."

She shook her head yes and held back tears when she hugged me. "Tank, I've missed all of you. When my mother made the comment about Rangeman, I knew she'd spread the lie. I couldn't come back to you. What would you have thought? I hurt you when all you've tried to do is help me."

"Baby Girl, yes the guys were initially devastated but they realized your mother was ill. They were and continue to be worried about you. They want only the best for you."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

 **Hooray, FF is sending out update notifications, let's hope it continues!**

 **Ranger Returns**

The Rangeman gym at 0500 was alive with excitement, relief, and speculation. Ranger had returned late the previous night. According to those watching the monitors, he was thinner and maybe bald. He had gone directly to the 7th floor.

Ranger did not work out in the gym the next morning. Instead at 0800 he opened the stairway door and strode onto the 5th floor and headed for his office. Inside he found Lester, Bobby and Hal.

"Where the hell is Tank," he grumbled. "I sent him a notice of the meeting this morning."

Bobby looked at the thinner Ranger. It was nothing new, he often returned from missions a few pounds lighter, but this was excessive. His head was shaved, often a sign of head lice. His skin color was bad, eyes were puffy. Before coming to Ranger's office Bobby read his emails and found the new medical update file regarding Ranger. He only had time to skim it; Ranger had typhus but received antibiotics soon after rescue several weeks ago. Bobby felt a twinge of pity for his friend, head lice and typhus causing body lice, two different species, at the same time. His condition while captive had to be horrendous. Ranger also had recently been diagnosed with an internal fungus called Visceral leishmaniasis. The internal, visceral form of Leishmaniasis attacked the liver, spleen and bone marrow. Drugs were available to combat the problem but they took time. Ranger had been given a 96 hour leave for personal reasons and had to report back to the hospital for medical and psychiatric treatment.

Lester answered Ranger, "He's on leave. He's having personal issues. He promised he'd be dark only 36 hours."

"What the fuck is going on? He's not back together with what's her name...Lula is he? I'm gone 8 months and he goes to hell. Do I need to put you back in command Hal? Maybe I should get Cruz up here."

Everyone held their breath. They understood Ranger's lashing out was more about his past 8 months than anything at Rangeman. They could see he was ill and they recognized his need to decompress. They had all gone through it, more than once. Only Bobby and Tank knew he had been captured and apparently he had been through hell and would soon have to deal with more.

Finally Lester decided to answer his cousin. "Things have been difficult here Cuz. Not only have we been worried about you, Stephanie disappeared. Steph is pregnant. When the Burg heard she was knocked up they assumed it was Joe's. When they realized Steph had disappeared the talk was she dissed Joe saying she would not marry a Morelli as they are cheaters and wife beaters. Joe was crushed and moved away. Bella ambushed her at the pastry shop and called her whore and…..dog shit. The Morellis contacted the Grizollis and put a contract out on Stephanie for dishonouring their family. Teri said she'd do the job _gratis_. Mrs. Plum ran Stephanie out of the house with a butcher knife calling her a slut and insinuated Rangeman had gang raped her. People assume Stephanie is at the bottom of Delaware, in a land fill or somewhere in the Pine Barrens either from suicide or the Grizollis."

Ranger reached for a chair and collapsed into it. He looked like he would pass out.

"Hold on Ranger, those are the Burg rumors," Bobby cautioned. "Stephanie isn't pregnant by Joe, but by you on your last night here, New Year's Eve. Her birth control shot totally failed along with several thousand other women across the country. Everyone assumed Joe was the father. Joe was gone by November first; people didn't notice. He moved to St. Louis. Morelli women immediately started wedding plans without consulting Stephanie or Joe. Mrs. Plum went ape-shit when Stephanie told her Joe wasn't the father. Poor Steph never had a chance to tell her who was the father before Mrs. Plum started calling her slut and Rangeman whore.

Ranger didn't move and Bobby wasn't sure he was even breathing.

Hal took over, "Tank met an Army major, got married, and now his wife is MIA in the Middle East."

Lester added, "And we've lost two men, Cruz was one of them."

The only movement Ranger made was to blink several times. He then whispered, "What the hell?"

Bobby looked at Lester and Hal and nodded his head towards the door, "I need to talk to Ranger, alone."

After Lester and Hal left and the door was shut, Ranger turned to Bobby,

"Geez, Bobby, is this what Alice went through in Wonderland? What's going on?"

Bobby began again, "Stephanie disappeared suddenly. She's been gone almost 7 months. We can't find her."

Ranger looked very concerned, "What is this about a baby?"

"What Hal and Lester told you is Burg gossip. Stories are all tangled up. The baby isn't Joe's, it is yours. When she told her mother the baby wasn't Joe's, Helen went nuts insinuating she was a whore for Rangeman or the guys here raped her."

Ranger's eyes narrowed, his eyes got hard.

"Relax, Tank and our attorneys put a squash on that immediately. The guys here were devastated though. They'd never harm her."

Ranger had to concentrate on keeping is breathing even.

Bobby continued, "So Steph ran. When Joe came back to town and he found his family was planning his wedding, he went to Steph's apartment but there's another couple living there. He came here looking for her. He and Tank almost came to blows, Tank held his cool—somehow. When Joe went to the Plum house, Mrs. Plum went after him with a butcher knife blaming him for Steph's behavior. She stood in the front yard screaming at Joe with the knife in her hand and Eddie Gazarra holding a gun on her. Joe left not knowing the true story but suspected he was not the father. He originally moved to St. Louis in November to woe Stephanie away from you and to marry her. Now he wants nothing to do with her, his family, her family, the Burg and Rangeman. To quote, "You can all go to Hell and fuck yourselves."

Ranger shut his eyes as he tried to process what Bobby was telling him. His hands griped the chair's arms, his knuckles were white. Bobby waited until Ranger's breathing slowed before continuing.

In a softer voice, almost a whisper, Bobby continued, "We searched her apartment within 24 hours of her leaving and found her trackers, cut up credit cards, phone and gun. Her car had been junked. She took some clothes but left everything else behind. We reviewed train and bus videos, we don't know how she left town, if she left town."

Ranger let lose the chair's arms and put his fingers together in front of his chest, he was trying to relax. "And Tank? Hal said he married an Army major. Male or female?"

Bobby wanted to relax hoping Ranger was trying to lighten the mood, but he wasn't sure. "Geez, Ranger, how long have you known him? He met Major Pappas soon after you left. SHE, a woman, had transferred to Dix from Bragg two months before. Quickly she garnered the moniker Ft. Dix Bitch for her no-nonsense command as well as her abilities in self-defense, weapons, and athletics in particular handball. Her job here is in intelligence or cyber, I'm not quite sure.

She and Tank fell in love quickly; they share so much in common. Her sudden assignment to the Middle East had something to do with the Bragg project being brought back on line; so she and Tank kicked up their wedding plans. Now she's MIA and Tank isn't doing well. He's been worried about you, his wife, Stephanie and the baby all the while running Rangeman. We also lost Damien a few weeks ago, car crash….and Cruz. He, Vince and Carl were in Atlantic City picking up an FTA. Vince is back, desk duty. Carl is still out.

Ranger was quiet for a moment. "Damien and Cruz, gone, damn. This is all a little overwhelming Bobby."

"I can imagine, sorry to dump all at once. I realize you'll need time especially after being held captive."

"You know?"

"Just Tank and me."

"Tank's wife, the major, do you know where she is missing?"

Bobby's head jerked in surprise, "No, Middle East somewhere. Why?"

Ranger thought of those that came to the factory. He got to his feet and walked to the window, "I was over there. Six man team, I and five highly trained native commandos. We were set up, FUBAR from the go. Three immediately injured. When we were captured, the injured were beheaded. The rest of us were being saved for a grand beheading party elsewhere. We were kept in a cave for months, shackled to the wall. One of the two died of dysentery there in the cave. The other was beaten to death. Eventually I joined other captives, mostly foreigners in transport to the execution spot. We traveled for a week or more, I have no idea where we were as we were blindfolded every morning during transport. The last stop was an outdoor prison, little shelter, near some underground manufacturing site middle of nowhere. I can't tell you how long we were there, maybe two weeks. Before dawn helicopters came in waves, concentrated on the nearby underground building. We laid flat on the ground not knowing where the bullets would fly. Two more helicopters came to the other side of the camp. They came just for us and took off immediately."

"US Army?"

"I don't think so. Brits I think. The aircraft were a mix: Russian M16, RAF Merlin, Black Hawk. What type of operation uses three different country's aircraft?"

"Sounds like it was important to a lot of people," Bobby answered.

Turning back to Bobby, "What happened to Tank's wife?

"We don't know much. Her helicopter went down, remote area, don't even where. If there are survivors they've been out there 3 weeks."

"That would be about the right time. No rescue attempt?"

"Drones have found the crash site. The airship is in pieces. Do you think…she was there where you were?"

"I don't know what to think." Ranger looked out the window, "I'm on a 96 hour leave before I must return to care. I convinced my psychiatrists I needed to check on things here. For months know I've felt something was wrong, Stephanie was in trouble. I was right. Bobby, where is Stephanie?"

Bobby sighed quietly. He knew Ranger wasn't right in his mind by the way he circled back with his questions. "Ranger, we've been looking. She knows how to drop off the grid. We are doing searches for her but have found nothing. We don't have enough information to put her on the missing person's lists. If she's still alive..." Bobby swallowed, "she's gone underground. She knows how."

"What about Hector?"

"If he's found her, he isn't saying."

Walking over to his desk phone he punched in Hector's number, " _Venga aqui_."

While they waited for Hector, Ranger turned toward Bobby and stared. "Do you believe the Morelli contract rumors?"

"No, not really. Still, if old man Morelli were still alive, yes. Robert and Mooch don't have the balls. Bella, for sure. Angie, Joe's mother, maybe. Teri, for sure, but old man Grizzoli liked Steph. I don't think Teri would go against her uncle."

Ranger watched Bobby for more information.

Bobby continued, "Before Steph went away she came into the gym hysterical and talked to Frosyni. Maybe the Colonel knows."

"What Colonel?" Ranger asked shaking his head.

"Lt. Colonel, Tank's wife. She was promoted while here. Her apartment complex on Cutler blew up. Instead of seeking medical attention for herself first, she took the neighbor's cats to the vets. Tank was also at the vets and saw her condition. He called me. She was in bad shape. Afterwards Tank offered to let her recover at his house."

"Just like that, he offered his house to her?" Ranger asked.

"He begged me to rehab her, not allow her to go off to a rehab facility. We didn't have any apartments open at the time. Yeah, we were stunned as well. He was beyond smitten. He hired a nurse, I stopped by twice a day, and Stephanie was her companion for several hours a day."

Bobby shook his head and continued, "The Army let me rehab her here. She worked with the guys on self-defense, especially the new hires. She is good, very good. Just before she shipped out she and Tank even had a session on the mats, he was struggling." Bobby could smile….now.

Ranger's eyes opened wide, "How?"

Bobby chuckled, "Ranger, she's only 4 inches shorter than Tank, far more agile and more skillful. He has the strength but…..well, I stopped them before they damaged each other."

"So the Colonel may have helped Stephanie? Tank knows nothing?"

"Not a thing. She told Tank Stephanie needed time to sort out her life, find a job that would support her and a baby."

Two days ago Tank called in and said he'd be gone a while. Forsyni, the colonel, has a friend, a Lieutenant General George Halvers. He's been keeping Tank up to date on the search for Frosyni. Maybe the general called with news, bad news, and Tank needed time alone. He said he'd be dark for 36 hours, no more. His home security system hasn't been disabled since he left, he's not at home."

Hector knocked and entered. " _Ella es segura."_ (She is safe.)

"Where?"

 _"_ _No. Puedes despedirme, pero no te daré esa información hasta que seas bueno en tu cabeza."_ (No. You can fire me, but I will not give you that information until you are good in your head.)

"I don't have time for your shit." Ranger boomed.

 _"_ _No digo que Tank, no te estoy diciendo."_ (I didn't tell Tank, I'm not telling you.)

A thought quickly passed through Bobby's brain, "….Hector said _bueno en tu cabeza._ What does Hector know about Ranger's condition and how?"


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Tank didn't active his phone GPS when he got back to Trenton. He went home, took a bottle of water from the refrigerator and sat in his recliner staring out the window. He knew he should be at work, but he needed time. Stephanie was well and moving forward without Ranger. She had matured, knowing she was now in charge of her life and her child. He hoped she would consider meeting the Manosos, they could bring light back into her life.

His thoughts turned to Efrosyni. He stood and walked around the house; he couldn't find a thing beyond his wife's limited clothes collection to remind him of her. Finally, on her dresser he found an icon.

Frosyni told him about St. Euforsyne of Alexandria, the Christian saint for whom she was named. This 5th century woman forsook her father's position and fortune to follow her religious beliefs. She renamed herself Smaragdus, dressed herself as a man and entered a monastery of men where her identity remained unknown until her death nearly 40 years later. During her sequestered years none was more pious and kind. Her own father also became a monk at the same monastery but did not know Smaragdus was his daughter until he lay dying and she revealed her true identity to him.

How long did Frosyni dress as a solider, live a celibate life, forsaking her womanhood for her country? Yet through all her trials she remained strong in her religion. Though known as the Ft. Dix Bitch, he came to realize the nickname was also given out of respect. Not only was she an exemplary soldier, she was extremely giving and kind. Her children's self-defense classes had become extremely popular due mostly to her love and concern for the children. Fr. Paul, her priest, had told him about her frequent visits to hospitals and nursing home to visit parishioners or to take groceries to shut-ins. Tank knew nothing about them. Frosyni did not brag.

She came to him with her own problems, but together they became stronger and human again. It was a dizzy experience and they'd laugh together about the rapid changes. They were learning how love, to have a full loving relationship and its many variations. They were looking forward to learning more about love and marriage over the coming years. He prayed there would be more.

He saw how Carlos would darken when Stephanie went back to Morelli. Would he return to the darkness that enveloped his life years ago in Newark and which he never fully emerged….until that day in the vet's clinic? "Tis better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all." Was Tennyson correct?

He shut his eyes and centered himself and began praying for his wife. He asked that she come home, but if she was gone, he asked they would be again together. His love was eternal. As he wept quietly his body began to tingle. He was not alone. He had flown back from Georgia on commercial airlines and had not rearmed himself when he got home. Did Frosyni keep a weapon in her dresser drawer? If so he didn't know which one?

Slowly he turned, preparing for an attack. Standing in the door was what he thought an apparition from beyond. Ranger was a good thirty pounds underweight, eyes dull, hair shaved from his head.

"Tell me about her…" Ranger spoke quietly from the door threshold.

Knowing Tanks home security system and with a little help from the guys back on the 5th floor disabling the system for a few minutes, Ranger had quietly entered. Tank wanted to ask Ranger….who. Was he asking about Frosyni or Stephanie? Instead he asked, "You look like you could use a beer."

"Probably more than one." Ranger replied.

They both stepped forward and gave each other a hug, not a man hug but a hug one gives family you thought you had lost. They parted, knocked each other's shoulder and Tank went to the refrigerator returning not only with beer but bread, sandwich meats, chesses, lettuce and tomatoes.

"You look like hell Carlos."

"Yeah, and you look like you've aged a bit."

"That I have. When did you get back?" Tank asked.

"Last night; Bobby caught me up this morning. He suspected you might be home now. Situational awareness Tank, you drove right by me."

"How was I to know the skinny, bald Spic in the truck was you. I'm surprised you are strong enough to crawl up into that thing. Shaved head?"

"Lice," Ranger answered simply.

Tank nodded, he had been there. He liked the hairless look so continued to shave his head to this day; that and male pattern baldness. A long time ago he wore a full blown Afro.

They ate in silence, finished off their beers, and opened new ones. They were typical men, perfectly comfortable being in each other's presence without talk. Their lives have been interwoven for 20 years. Finally Ranger spoke, "She made quite an impression on the men."

Tank now understood he was referring to Efrosyni. "Yeah, she is …special." Tank wasn't surprised Ranger knew about her. Bobby, Lester and Hal had probably told him.

"Sam Pappas' daughter?" Ranger asked.

"Yeah, small world. Remember how Major Hughes would go on about Sam Pappas?"

"He'd ride me to make you a better solider. He thought you might be or could be Sam's reincarnation," Ranger replied.

"The major was wrong, Sam's daughter is very much like her father but has had a shit load dumped on her over the years. Somehow she perseveres."

"Somebody called her a female Tank, hardly complimentary."

Tank guffawed, "A lot better looking. She completed me; she healed wounds dating back to Newark. I never thought I be worthy of love and being loved."

Both were quiet for a long time then Ranger asked, "Do you know where she is?"

Tank shook his head no. "Middle East somewhere, helicopter down, we don't know if it was shot down or mechanical problems. Apparently is it in small pieces. Hers was the only one not to return after a successful mission. Nobody can get in there; the enemy is all over the place."

Thinking of his rescue, "How many aircraft were involved?"

Tank looked at Ranger for a moment, "Why do you ask?"

Ranger shrugged and shook his head no, like he didn't know why he asked. He continued, "We've encountered bad missions before, but this was a FUBAR from the word go. No equipment, change of assignment, change in command, no back up, enemy waiting for us, they knew our mission. Five well trained men, lost.

"Shit."

"I've been captured before, beaten, and even been sick. I figured I'd fall from a bullet or being blown up, but to die being beheaded as a public spectacle, my head held up for propaganda…" Ranger was quiet for a while, Tank was trying not to think of Efrosyni.

"Only two things kept me going, mentally I could see Stephanie in the sunshine with the sunlight bouncing off her hair and the thought how I was going to spit in the eye of the person who would murder me."

Tank's sandwich wasn't sitting well in his stomach.

"This might have been the last assignment. Contract is up for renewal."

"Do you want to continue?" Tank asked.

"If future missions are as messed up as this, I want no part. I don't know how much more I can handle. I've done well to stay alive, now I'm worried how it has damaged me, permanently."

Ranger took a long drink from his beer.

Tank began slowly, "Nothing is permanent unless you allow it to be. You deal with it, disassemble it piece by piece, clean it, repair it, lubricate it and put it back together."

"You make it sound like a weapon," Ranger snapped back.

"Not at all different. It's not only an extension of you, like a weapon, but it is you. You haven't begun the process, you know that. How many times have you gone through decompression? This time you'll need help. You are reeling: bad mission, you've lost confidence in your handlers, the situations were more severe than you've encountered before. The docs will help, we in your core team will, and of course your family. It will take time and a lot of effort on your part."

They both remained quiet. Tank knew they were moving into the question of Stephanie.

"Apparently I have a new child," Ranger whispered.

Tank nodded but remained quiet.

Ranger chewed a bite and swallowed. "Do you have any idea where Steph is? Hector won't tell me."

Tank chuckled, "Yeah, he drew a knife on me when I realized he knew and I pushed him for information. He's always loved her like she is family."

Tank took another bite of the sandwich, chewed and swallowed. "She's at Ft. Benning."

Ranger looked at him. "Benning?"

"Not on base, she is in Columbus. Frosyni has a condo there I didn't know about. I had Atlanta watch it until they saw her and since has been keeping an eye on her. Even before I figured it out, Hector found her and told Frosyni. She asked him to watch her financials and if she was in trouble, contact her friend General Halvers. He's a co-signer on Frosyni's Georgia savings account."

"Bobby mentioned Halvers."

"He helped her get into West Point; served with her father. After her mother died, he's been her only friend, more like a surrogate father. She and he have separate condos in the same complex, Army big wigs and retirees. She has a place because of her father and I suspect Halvers."

"How is Steph?" Ranger whispered.

"I was just there. She's coping and moving forward after her mother really gutted her. She has been getting counselling and has a safe job in an office and looking to relocate. She can't stay in the condo indefinitely, homeowner regulations."

"Where is she going?"

'Any place but Trenton," Tank said dejectedly.

"Is she still….pregnant?"

Tank chuckled, "Out to here, due soon. It's a boy."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

 **Ranger in Georgia**

Hector knocked on Bobby's office door. _"¿Puede recibir tratamiento Carlos transferida a Fort Benning o necesitará la ayuda del general?_ " (Can you get Carlos' treatment transferred to Ft. Benning or will you need the general's help?)

Bobby looked up confused, _"¿Por qué pedís?_ " (Why do you ask?)

" _Es donde es Estafania_." (It's where Stephanie is) Hector answered.

"Lo que usted sabe y cuánto tienen saber?" (What do you know and how long have you known?)

Hector shrugged.

Bobby shook his head, " _A ver qué puedo hacer. Necesitaré una forma de contacto General Halvers."_ (I'll see what I can do. I'll need a way to contact General Halvers.")

Hector reached into his pocket and pulled out is phone, " _Aqui."_

000

The doorbell rang. Stephnie expected it to be the grocery delivery man bringing her order. He'd put it on the counter for her so she couldn't have to lift it. She had the money in her pocket as she opened the door.

It wasn't the grocery boy. Ranger stood in front of her, or what she thought was Ranger. He had lost a lot of weight. His head was shaved; he looked sick, older, and apprehensive.

"Babe."

She stepped back and left the door open. She needed to sit before she fainted. There was no way she could put her head between her knees. She hadn't seen her knees in months.

He remained standing at the door, confused. His shoulders sagged. He assumed she'd run into his arms, but seeing her condition, maybe waddle would be a better description. Instead she turned her back and walked away, but did not shut the door. Was she turned off by his appearance? Had she moved on and no longer wanted him?

His self-worth was dangerously low right now anyway, but to be rejected by her would be shattering. He looked down, what should he do? Indecision. This was new territory. Ranger always knew what to do, now he was truly confused. Maybe he should leave.

Just as he was turning away he heard, "Please, come in."

He stepped inside and looked around. It reminded him of 7th floor of Haywood, soft beige tones, leather furniture. She was semi-sitting on a bar stool with her feet propped up on an pillow-like ottoman watching him. He in turn looked at her. She was obviously in the advanced portion of the pregnancy. Her faced glowed from within, it wasn't perspiration. Her skin was pure white; the hair was still the lovely brown curls that flowed down past her shoulders. The eyes, how those brilliant blue sapphire eyes bore into him? What where those eyes trying to say? She was more beautiful than he remembered. This is what kept him alive, kept him from falling into perpetual darkness.

Ranger remained just inside the door when a man came up behind him carrying grocery bags. "Hey Stephanie;" when he Ranger, "Oh hello," was all he said.

Stephanie stood and followed the man into what Ranger assumed was the kitchen. Was this someone new in her life? She hadn't bothered to introduce him, did he live here? Suddenly he felt like he was an intruder in her new life and turned around for the door to leave. She didn't need him.

At that moment the grocery delivery man and Stephanie emerged from the kitchen, "See you in a few days, if you need something sooner, call. The man walked out the front door.

Ranger was confused and looked at her.

"Grocery delivery man, I can't carry anything heavy right now."

Ranger nodded.

She walked over slowly, never taking her eyes off his and took the door from him and closed it.

She said softly, "I don't know what to do. Nobody told me you were alive. I would have expected a heads up at least from Tank."

"I asked him not to call."

"Are you trying to force our son out early with your sudden appearance?"

"I...didn't consider that, I'm sorry. Please sit down." He indicated the couch.

"I can't sit beside you."

He was confused, hurt showed in his eyes.

"No, it's not you. I can't get back up."

He smiled a small smile, "I'm sorry...again." He couldn't believe he was apologizing, it wasn't his style. He wasn't sure about this new person was. It wasn't Ranger. Maybe he was just Rick or Carlos now.

She went to the bar stool and lowered herself, putting her feet back onto the ottoman. He sat on the bar stool next to her. They stared at each other.

"I thought you were dead, everyone said you probably were," she whispered.

He wanted to touch her but couldn't, the fungal disease he carried might be dangerous to her and the baby. The doctors weren't sure but he wasn't taking a chance. "I can't touch you; I have a disease that needs to be cured first," he whispered. He shut his eyes trying to control his own emotions, but a tear escaped.

Stephanie reached forward to wipe it away but he pulled back. "You can't touch me either."

Stephanie didn't know what to do with her hands. They so wanted to touch him, to see if it really was Ranger. The body was different. It was almost slender, gone was the massive chest.

He looked off into that vast region one sees in their mind while trying to think or compose one's emotions. "This was one mission I figured I would not survive. I would try to remember your face as often as possible especially when they tortured me. Your memory kept me going. If they had executed me, you would have been my last thought."

Now it was her time to cry, she didn't try to stop.

He wanted to put his hands on either side of her face as he had often done before and wipe the tears away.

"Did you escape?" She sniffled as she reached for a tissue.

"No, I was rescued. I always figured I'd catch a bullet and go quickly. Knowing I was going to have my head removed was not my idea of a good soldier's death."

Stephanie gasped. Thankfully the thought of him being beheaded never crossed her mind. Oh, how much worse would this have been!

He continued, "I've talked with doctors, psychiatrists, Tank, and Bobby. I don't know if I'm done. I have a lot to consider. At most I might do training but remain here, not overseas."

She sat quietly, listening. She didn't know what she wanted to hear or her heart wanted to hear.

"I'm still afraid of my past catching up to me but now I have you and our son as well as Julie to protect. I can't push you away like I did Rachel and Julie. I never loved Rachel; I was just doing the honorable thing for a guy starting his military career. Now it may be at the end."

He took a breath.

"I love you; I always have and wanted only the best for you. I've hurt you so many times and it has torn my heart. But, if you will have me, I'd like to be with you and my son forever or as long as we have together. I want to keep you safe, close to me and my heart."

"Bottom of the ninth, 2 outs and 2 strikes and Ranger comes to his senses." Stephanie mutters...

"What?"

"Sorry, I've been watching too much baseball on TV. I've been trying to wean myself off hockey."

"Babe?"

"You have brought up a good point about keeping your son safe. A child needs a father but would our boy be safer away from you; permanently away from you?"

Ranger's heart clenched, "You know I'll go to extraordinary lengths to keep both of you safe," he said.

"Seeing you right now, I worry what extraordinary will do to you. You are sick and you no longer…."

"Batman?"

She shrugged, "Not exactly what I was going to say, but yes you are…..damaged.

"Babe, I am only a man. I bleed, I cry, I have doubts but when I'm healthy and in my right space again, I will be strong once more. I've come back from similar experiences, not this great, but I've been down the road before. You've been helping me without knowing it. These past few years when I've finished a mission, I've gone off to decompress but the process was easier because I knew I'd see you again. Several times I would return, enter your apartment and watch you sleep. Seeing you made my world come together again.

"I'm not sure how I'll mend if I lost both of you. Having you and him close would help put part of my mind to rest at least. I'll still have bad times; this will be a hard one to get over. I'll need psychiatric work and my support staff of Bobby, Tank, my family in Newark, but most importantly I need you to get the through. It may not be easy as first, but like before, I have a reason to move forward with you and him."

Stephanie got up and walked around. "Ranger I can't go back to Trenton and the Burg. It was my home but also the critical part of my mental troubles. Being away has allowed me time to mature to where I should be. I'm not being emotionally repressed by my mother, Joe is not trying to control me through sex and intimidation, the newspaper isn't following every adventure of the Bombastic Bounty Hunter, I'm not the main feature of the Burg gossip line.

My mother and Bella called me a whore…that's what I was. I was sleeping with Joe out of lust, lust for our life 14 years before. I believed life with him was my destiny. I believed it in high school and that's when I stopped growing.

I whored with you because I felt something for you the first time I saw you in the diner. I thought it was lust, but you promised to be my Harry Higgins, you believed in me, tried to help me. You didn't criticize me…well, just a little. But you also chased me but held me off, even throwing me back into the pond just as Joe had done years before in the pastry shop.

You were Ranger, all tough and sealed up tight and didn't need anyone in your life. Condom not a wedding ring kept running through my head. Commitment was not in your vocabulary. We were falling in love, but it was a road to nowhere. My life was nowhere.

This is going to hurt you, I'm sorry. Carlos, I was planning on leaving with Joe to start a new life elsewhere. He wanted me and was willing to change jobs to get away from the Burg so we could be together without all the crap that comes with my family and his. I really didn't love him; he was a good friend, so I thought at the time. I needed to be someone other than the Bombastic Bounty Hunter Whore who kept two mens' beds warm."

Ranger felt like he had been gut punched, but held his tongue.

Stephanie laughed, "Ultimately it wasn't Joe that got me out of the Burg, or you, it was your son. Since he's been in my womb I walked away from the Burg, my family, from Joe and into the real world where women must take care of themselves and their child. I have a job and plans to move from here and start a life with my….our child. Now you want me to return to Trenton, back to the Burg a place that became my perdition."

He didn't say a thing. He realized this was her decision.

She walked around the living room thinking. "Ranger you've helped me so many times in the past, now it is time I help you. I see you are hurting physically and emotionally and you want to get better. I need to help you and I know it will take time. I'd like my son, your son, to be a part of the healing. Yes, I will return to New Jersey but not Trenton and especially not the Burg. There is nothing in the Burg I want or need."

"Your family?"

"Tank said my mother is in a mental facility. Maybe without her I can make amends with my father and sister."

"Babe, you will have to make amends with your mother too, someday."

"I know. The counsellors have explained that."

"No 7th floor?"

"Perhaps initially, but I'd rather live away from Trenton and the Burg."

"Tasty Pastry?"

"NO, never again! I still have nightmares about the last time I was there. Believe it or not Ranger, I haven't wanted or had a doughnut or any pastry since that horrible day with Bella. Sugar makes me ill…or maybe it's the baby."

Stephanie walked to the kitchen and returned with two water bottles, giving Ranger one. After taking several swallows, she regained her composure.

"Pino's is also out as it is central to cop rumors; no Vincent Plum Bail Bonds, no Cluck in a Bucket. I never want my name in the paper again."

"Babe, we don't have to live in Trenton we could live in Miami or Atlanta."

"No, you…..and I need Bobby and Tank….and even Lester and Hector. There are many nice places outside of Trenton. After a while, we'll see if we, or I, want to relocate entirely."

His eyes began to brighten, "Are you saying yes, Babe?"

She nodded, "And another thing Ranger, I need a job, a real job away from the streets. No more apprehensions, no distractions."

"You don't have to work."

"Yes, I do. Everyone needs to pull their weight, not live off someone else. A woman especially needs to be able to support herself and child if left alone. I've come to realize that while down here."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"The way you look right now, I'm not sure. You first need to regain your health."

He nodded.

Taking a cleansing breath, Stephanie went on, "Ranger I realize life with you might be dangerous. In the past I've shirked my responsibility for personal safety. Not anymore. I promise to take weapons and self-defense training to protect myself, our child, and Rangeman. I will not underestimate what needs to be done for our safety."

"Oh Babe..."

"Finally I have one other request. Early on here you said you want me forever. I don't know if your "forever" is what I would define as forever. If you can, will marry me before this baby arrives...we only have a few weeks."

"Babe, the men are supposed to ask first."

"Ranger, the stork is warming up his wings. I want my name to be Manoso on the birth certificate. We don't have to live together if you find me too difficult or you consider yourself dangerous to us; but I don't want Stephanie Plum to be on the birth certificate. My mother referred to this precious baby as a bastard. I've cried myself to sleep trying thinking about that title. I want him to be a Manoso through and through. I want him to know I am fully committed to you. No hyphenated name, just Manoso."

"Babe marriage to you will be a lifetime commitment. I've agonized over what happened between Rachel and me. We did the best we could under the circumstances, but you are my life. You are my forever."

She smiled and wanted to hug and kiss him, but couldn't. "All we need is a justice of peace….."

"And a witness."

"I have the perfect witness for our wedding, my neighbor, General George Halvers."

"Is he here? I need his help regarding my leave and medical assignment."


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

 **Efrosyni POV**

We set timed charges to destroy our failed helicopter and then ran like hell. It would be easy to identify the manufacturer from the remains, but not who was inside.

Initially the terrain was open and dangerous; we moved at night and became part of the earth during the day. We were too small a group to fight off something large. To get by patrols we had to become the earth, not move until they passed. We were now in rugged terrain, rock walks, large boulder and narrow passages providing numerous hiding places and cover. It was the rainy season which meant we were fortunate to encounter two brief rains and we captured as much water as we could and scoured catch basins for the rest. I apologized to my intestines. We had food but knew we'd have to go long stretches without.

Nobody wanted to be captured for different reasons. As a woman the treatment would be horrific. The Israelis on the team would be reason enough for a full scale Armageddon. The third, a German was unusual as he was the one who designed the machines, but not for the purpose they were used back at the site. He wanted them destroyed. The pilot was Russian. We trudged on.

By the 18th day, the food was gone as was most of the water. We've worked hard to get here; the well is only three miles away. We could see forage for livestock down in the valley, but so far nobody was grazing animals. I didn't want to steal someone's goat but the thought crossed my mind. Our current position is defensible but we don't want a fire fight. We have no back up. Once water is brought back we will rest a few hours and continue south.

Only the most stealth and still fit can go for water. It was my turn. My companion would be one of the Delta Force men I had trained with almost a year ago. We were all losing weight from lack of food and I suspected parasites or diseases.

The darkness and terrain, while a blessing for those remaining hidden, was making movement difficult for the two of us. The batteries for our night vision goggles died a week ago, we were back to "go slow." As we drew closer to the well, the night air carried the water's smell. This was not the salty smell of ocean water or the silvery pure water of a mountain stream, this was the mineral rich smell of water in a deep well dug thousands of years ago for man and beast. We were approximately 50 yards away when I sensed other presence. We crouched down and listened. Man or animal? Then a voice speaking quietly in Hebrew said, "Shalom, we've been looking for you."

Did I dare say anything? Very few people know I speak Hebrew so I answered back in Arabic, "I don't understand you." The man chuckled and responded in Greek, "Efrosyni, I know you understand me, but do you want me to go through all the languages you speak?"

I thought back to the helicopter, we did not leave any documents identifying ourselves. How did this person know my name and the languages I spoke? He initially spoke in Hebrew, was this an Israeli?

"Your choice," I answered also in a quiet voice.

I moved into the open with my Sig in hand. My companion remained behind.

Four men appeared carrying Israeli rifles and dressed in Israeli camo wearing night vision.

"Shalom Colonel, I am Captain Adoni Mossel, Israeli Special Forces. We have been tasked with finding you and your team and bringing you home. Your companion may wish to join us," he quietly spoke.

I gave the signal and Chuck joined us and two more Israeli Special Forces appeared as well.

"There are others near the well. They should not know we are hear."

I nodded and indicated we'd go back the way we came. Captain Mossel nodded.

After we had gone several hundred yards through the rocks we stopped.

Captain Mossel spoke, "Few believed you would try and succeed in reaching this well. I congratulate you. Do you have injured? "

"Shalom Seren (Captain), yes, but all can walk, more or less. We desperately need water and food."

"We have both. Let's return to your men, our transport rendezvous is tomorrow night and we have to go some distance."

000

I awoke to the last strains of Beethoven's seventh playing in someone's ear buds and a very strong sheep odor. I moved my head a bit and heard, "Shalom" next to me. It was Captain Mossel.

"Please tell me I am not sitting in sheep shit." I uttered in Hebrew.

"It was supposed to keep us warm," the seren chuckled. I was so tired when we crawled into the truck, I didn't notice the smell. A canteen was passed to me and I took several mouthfuls of warm, metal tasting water. Nothing ever tasted as good. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw my team and Israeli commandos huddled together in a truck bed.

After dozing again, I awoke to the sounds of a Black Hawk helicopter with its rotors a near full speed. "Time to head to the showers, Colonel" said one of the Americans on the team."

"Don't use all the hot water," I replied.

A shower. I didn't know if I should stand there and drink the water or bathe. Cursory physical, a big dose of Tinidazole antibiotic for Giardia, clean clothes, preliminary debrief, food and sleep; life doesn't get any better. I had no idea how long I slept but my first destination was to check again on my team. Two were in the infirmary the others in mess chowing down. My driver must have told officials I was up because when I left my men, I was taken to the Base Commander's office.

"Colonel, I've reviewed the preliminary debriefing, it is impressive. Thank you for successfully completing a very difficult mission and an incredible escape."

"Sir, it was my pleasure to work with your men once again and I especially commend your rescue team for finding us."

"It was assumed you perished either in the helicopter crash or were taken prisoner. By chance a drone sent to recon the crash site spotted you way south. We never thought you'd go that way, neither did the enemy. It was Mossel who thought you were going for the well and figured out when you'd arrive."

"We moved fast to be out of the open and into the rough terrain before they ever thought to look for us. The Israeli members wanted to get home, something about not wanting to wander in the wilderness for years."

 **Tank POV**

I was downstairs at the gun range. I found target practice relaxing; center your mind on the target, squeeze. Ranger should be in Georgia now to see Stephanie. I didn't know if they could work out their problems. She was thinking clearly and had matured, maybe beyond the need for Ranger. He still needed treatment for the sand flea disease as well as his psychiatric needs. He'd have to be back to base up here within 36 hours. Maybe Bobby and General Halvers could get Ranger reassigned to Ft. Benning for treatment. He would be close to Stephanie as the birth was coming soon. There was no way of knowing if or when Ranger would return to Rangeman, but just having him back, alive was a blessing.

When my clip emptied I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Eric. After we each removed our hearing protectors Eric said, "Sayeret Jacob Kramer called. He said he'd call back on the 30."

I looked at the clock, it was nearly time. "Is it coming my personal phone or through Rangeman?"

"The message came on the business line."

When I got to my office, Bobby came in, "Jacob Kramer now a Sayeret?"

"Don't know." I replied. "I haven't talked to him in ages. Maybe it is someone else."

"He's probably a major now. Good chance it is him."

On the half hour the phone rang and Bobby stepped out giving me privacy. It was indeed Israeli Army Sayeret (Major) Jacob Kramer, "Hey Sergeant, you still as ugly as ever?"

"Hey skinny white guy, I'm still more handsome than you will ever be."

"Yeah, yeah, I have someone here who agrees with you, hold on…"

"Pierre? Can you hear me?" Her voice was quiet and sounded exhausted.

I gasped, "Frosyni? Is it really you?"

"Yes, we made it back with a little help from my friends here. You are strong motivation, mister. I was not giving up until I was back with you."

I didn't know what to say. "Are you…OK?"

She chuckled. Oh what a lovely sound! "Yes, you and Bobby can relax, nothing broken. I'll call when we can talk longer. I love you Sergeant."

"Be safe, I want—I need you back soon," I responded. I heard the line close and I kicked myself for not telling her how much I loved her.

I put my elbows on the desk and head in my hands and began offering a prayer of thanksgiving. Tears rolled from my eyes. I needed to call Anton and Mari as well as Father Paul at St. George.

Bobby knocked softly, opened the door, saw my position and quickly stepped in and shut the door. He came over to a chair in front of the desk and sat down, but said nothing; not knowing if my tears meant the news was good or bad. He'd wait for me to speak.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a handkerchief Frosyni insisted I start carrying. "A gentleman always carries a handkerchief to help some sniveling woman. Of course that would never be me," she laughed.

After a bit I spoke, "She's alive unharmed. I just talked with her."

Bobby slumped in relief. The tension he'd been carrying for months melted off his body. "Oh, thank God." He put his hands over his face. I suspected he was trying to hold back tears.

I took out my phone and sent a message to all Rangeman employees, "Frosyni alive and well."

I heard the cheers from the 5th floor monitoring and work areas and expected shortly people would be crowding the office. First I wanted to contact George Halvers.

"Pierre, I just heard and was going to call you. She's on an Israeli base, intercepted by an Israeli search team. We'll talk later when I have more info. I'll tell Stephanie."

First through my office door was Ella, " _Dios mio_ , Tank, I've never stopped praying for her and you," she said as she wrapped her arms around me and wept. For the next hour the office was flooded with well-wishers and calls came in from Atlanta, Boston, Miami, and Newark from the Manosos. How did they find out so quickly?

* * *

The general laughed, "…To walk you down the aisle or as witness?"

Stephanie replied, "I'm not waddling down the aisle, we want you as our witness in a civil ceremony."

"What about Pierre?" He asked.

"No, it would be too much to ask since his wife is still missing."

"He received word today. She and her team are safe. She'll be stateside in a few weeks."

Stephanie shut her eyes and swayed as if she was about to fain. The general grabbed her arm, Ranger couldn't and it broke his heart.

Ranger asked, "General do you know where she was?"

The general hesitated as if wondering if he could answer Ranger's questions without divulging secrets. Finally he answered, "Yes I do and….so do you."

Ranger understood. "Thank you sir." Wasn't it ironic it was not Tank who saved his life this time, but Tank's wife. Maybe she is a female version of him.

Ranger continued, "General, I have another request, it is about my leave and medical assignment…"

The wedding between Ranger and Stephanie was unlike what they were expecting. Due to the unknown nature of the VL and Ranger's degree of infestation, doctors and scientists were uncertain just how transmittable this strain of VL would be. At first they wanted the wedding postponed. Then they considered protective wear for Ranger. First thought was something from sci-fi movies resembling space suits, the SafeSPEC suits with full coverage and a full face shield. From there the discussion went to coveralls with hoods made of Tyvek or a blood and chemical splatter suit. Finally someone came to their senses and realized they just needed to keep Ranger contained, not prevent material from reaching him. Surgical gown, gloves and mask would be sufficient. Not wanting to make Ranger feel worse, Stephanie decided to wear the same attire, except in a different color.

Still they did not hold hands, they did not kiss, and they did not exchange rings. They made their pledge and signed the marriage certificate while wearing their gloves. When George Halvers offered to take pictures of the ceremony, both the bride and groom nixed the idea saying they'd have another ceremony when Ranger was well. Ranger returned to isolation from Stephanie.

Rangeman Atlanta stepped up and found a place for Carlos, Stephanie and the baby to live as the deadline to move out of the condo was fast approaching.

At first Stephanie was hesitant to have a stranger help her as the delivery date neared, but finally relented to Ranger's suggestion his mother come. Though Mari and Celia had never met Stephanie they had heard about her from Carlos including the love he had for her. Instantly Stephanie was wrapped in a cocoon of Manoso love.

"Stephanie, you are not a stranger to us. Carlos has shared his love for you with us and his concerns over his work. It broke my heart to know he could not move forward. I know you have issues with your family, you are now in our family, we want to help you heal. "

When the stork appeared, Ranger was present but only in protective gear and not near the baby or his wife. Once the baby boy was swaddled and a cap put on his head, the doctor's carefully handed the newborn to his father. Tears streaked down Ranger's face, but everyone tried not to notice. The visit was brief. It would be almost four more weeks before Ranger could hold his son.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

 **Efrosyni POV**

There were more debriefings, conferences and general BS meetings than I could ever remember. I felt like I was in the old movie, "If It's Tuesday This Must Be Belgium." Instead of a tour bus as in the movie, I was flying around from country to country. I'd wake up in the morning and read my notes to know where I was. For sure I knew I was sick. My weight wasn't coming back since the walk about and my face had the chiseled look, any more chiseling and I'd be macabre.

Once in Washington DC I got a complete physical, head to toe, inside out exam. It took three days to poke, prod, scan, and other unmentionables. I was afraid to drink water for fear of spouting like the Trevi Fountain.

The medical doctor, a major, came into my room, "Colonel, you have both a blood fungus and a parasite. The fungus is Visceral Leishmaniasis. A high percentage of the people associated with your mission are also infected. The disease takes several weeks to appear which is why nobody has been able to isolate your problems. The second infection is Schistosomiasis. I suggest delaying treatment for both for different reasons. Treatment for VL is a long treatment, you'll probably want to be back at Ft. Dix before you begin. The Schisto treatment works better if the worms have developed at bit. I'm ordering you to report to the McGuire-Dix hospital immediately upon returning to New Jersey.

"Doctor, may I ask a copy be sent to my personal physician, a civilian who works with the military, Dr. Bobby Brown. He works with Dix medical staff and will be most interested in my condition."

"The trauma specialist?"

"Yes sir. My husband works with him."

The doctor raised an eyebrow, tilted his head, "Let me look into it."

My scheduled flight to Dix was at 0900, but through a last minute cancellation, I caught an evening shuttle arriving at 1900. I walked into the Dix hospital. "Lt. Colonel Efrosyni Pappas Sherman reporting as ordered."

The nurse tipped her head and smiled. "Yes ma'am. We expected you tomorrow. Colonel, please take a seat while I contact a doctor."

I sat and texted Tank, "Surprise! At Dix hospt."

I must have dozed off because when I opened my eyes, there were Tank and Bobby. "Why is a girl so lucky to have two handsome men waking her?" I knew it was similar to what I had said many months before in my drug haze.

They chuckled, they remembered too. Bobby stood up, "Tank will stay with you the rest of the night. I'll pick him up tomorrow."

"Yeah, last time you said that I ended up married," I said.

The two men laughed. Bobby came over and kissed my head, "Welcome home dear, though you look like hell." He turned and left.

"The last thing I remember is sitting down in the lobby, how'd I get here," I said when I realized I was in a hospital bed with an IV dripping into my arm.

"You were still in the lobby asleep when we arrived," he answered. "You've lost a lot of weight. You are light as a feather."

His face showed his concern. "Bobby said I shouldn't kiss you but I can't help it." I got a long, but dry kiss.

"Here we are again in a hospital facing a night together, Mr. Abrams."

"Yes, Mrs. Sheridan I look forward to it," he responded with a smile.

"If I scoot over, I believe I'm skinny enough to let you in bed with me."

Tank looked hesitant, "I can't, doctors' orders."

"We aren't going to be doing sexual gymnastics, I just want to be touched and held in your arms again."

"Touched?" he smiled.

"Ironic isn't it?"

"Fro, there is nothing more I want to do than hold you, but this time we need to listen to the doctors. You don't want to share your bugs with me."

"I have an idea," I said. I pushed the call button and when the nurse came in I asked for surgical garb for my husband; mask, gloves and gown. The nurse laughed and left.

"Well, it was worth a shot," I shrugged.

About 15 minutes later an orderly in walked with the requested items plus booties. Once Tank was properly garbed and I had a mask as well, Tank snuggled into bed with me.

As we snuggled close Tank whispered, "Ranger is alive, he was in the camp you liberated."

I remained quiet for a while, remembering the camp; a hell hole of human misery both physically and mentally. "How is he?"

"Looks like hell… the same as you."

I poked him, "I'm not that bad."

He raised an eyebrow, "Bobby's words for you."

"How bad?"

"You or Ranger?"

I sighed, "Ranger."

"His disease was more advanced than yours, it will take longer to cure," Tank whispered.

"How is he…mentally?"

Tank was silent for a while. "He's getting psychiatric as well as medical treatment at Benning. This was the worst he's experienced. I suspect he has a lot of past issues to deal with as well."

"Have he and Stephanie met?"

"Hector and George kept your secret. You forced me to figure it out on my own with the bank statements, didn't you?"

"She needed time, Tank."

"You didn't trust me?" He sounded wounded.

"I know you are a deeply caring person and knew you'd find your way down there, maybe before she was ready for you. I kept telling you she needed time."

He chuckled, "You know me well. Yes, she needed time and counselling. Being with the Bragg wives also helped her. You knew all that, didn't you? You and George set it up."

I smiled, "You know me well, too." I remained quiet and felt his breathing and slow touch. "Has the baby been born?"

"He arrived several weeks ago. Mari and Celia went down to help all of them."

My emotions were all over the place. I was trying to calm myself, finally I uttered, "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked.

"Everything." How could I detail all he has done? From handing me a water bottle back in the vet's office last January to healing my heart and soul, to loving and marrying me, I was over whelmed. I snuggled into Tank's massive chest and he threw his arm over my shoulder. We fell asleep instantly.

When Bobby came the next morning the nurses just shook their head, "We don't know how they fit."

Bobby walked into the room and found us, a 6'6" man in surgical dress and a 6'2" woman snuggled together in one hospital bed, fast asleep. He took a picture and would send it to all, including Ranger, Stephanie, George Halvers, and the Manosos.

* * *

I was warned the treatment after effects were like the flu, they weren't kidding. The Schisto treatment wasn't too bad, if you don't mind feeling like you are being poisoned. As for the VL treatment, considering the fungus is lethal, the treatment nausea and pain was acceptable.

After weeks, the tests came back clear I could rejoin the world and return to work. I had only gained a few pounds due to the nausea and was eagerly looking forward to eating real food again, not the bland stuff of the last month.

Pino's had its usual Friday night crowd but Rangeman held the back room. I stepped through the front door a cheer went up from the bar crowd. Many patrons came up with hugs, cheek kisses and well wishes. It was just a few months ago Tank and I had our Friday night dates here. News of my MIA was a topic for Burg discussion. I knew how Stephanie felt being part of the community gossip line.

Moving to the back room another cheer went up. One by one the Rangeman men came forward welcoming me with hugs, cheek kisses, and twirling around the room. I had to quickly stop the twirling. "Hold it guys, I vomit easily."

"You ain't kidding," I heard in the room. Since I wasn't well enough to drive to and from Dix for treatments and tests, these last two weeks Rangeman has been my taxi. Unfortunately the drugs made me extremely motion sensitive. Required in all vehicles was a plastic bag or two for me. My taxi service earned a nickname, "Vomit Comet."

"How much longer will you need treatment?" Ram asked.

I looked at Bobby and he answered, "She's probably done. We'll monitor with regular tests, but the last several tests came back clean for both fungus and parasites. She's doing well."

Doing well? I shook my head in disbelief, I wasn't really feeling well but I needed this this Friday night time out. The smells in Pino's would be a good test on my nausea. I'd stick to water and nibble some bread hoping all would stay down.

Tank pulled me into his lap, "Come her Boney Mahroney."

I laughed and gave him a big kiss on his cheek. He started rubbing my back; he no longer had to ask permission. My metamorphosis was near complete as long as there weren't lightning storms.

"What now Colonel?" Lester asked.

"Well, Lester, now that the nasties are truly out of me, I hope to take that honeymoon we missed."

"Where are we going sweetheart?" Lester quickly responded with this Lester eyebrow dance.

I laughed at my own mistake, before I would have growled. "To the mats if you aren't careful. My Israeli buddies taught me some new Krav Maga moves" I said lovingly as I touched his cheek, then kissed it.

Lester blushed! That was something I hadn't seen before.

Everyone laughed except Tank. He then turned to me and asked, "Anyplace in mind?"

"I've been giving this great thought: no sand, rocks or bare dirt, no insects, plenty of nice hot water for bathing, air conditioning, a refrigerator filled with fresh fruit and vegetables, and most of all, no traveling; how about your house?"

"You've been there; anyway, it's our house." He said as he kissed my temple.

"Are you at Dix for a while Colonel?" Hal asked.

"I hope so. If not, hopefully close enough to commute home on weekends. I'm thinking perhaps Ft. Belvoir outside of Washington. I have only a few more years for 20 and then I'm considering pulling the pin especially if I'm stationed far away from him," I said as I pointed my thumb over my shoulder. "I probably won't make full bird so why prolong the duty. I've served my country, now I need to be with my husband. "

"How long do you have?" Eric asked.

"Well, I'm older than Tank..."

"You are a cougar?" Lester gasped mockingly. "How much older?"

"That my dear Lester is none of your business, but it does make me more aware of the ticking biological clock. We'll have to get busy."

I immediately realized my mistake and put out my hand, "Don't say it Lester."

Lester smiled, "Oh Colonel, I can think of so many responses."

"Not right away," Bobby interrupted. "You have the drugs to eliminate from your body and weight to gain back."

"Yeah, but they can practice can't they?" Lester asked as he wiggled his eyebrows.

I looked at Bobby and raised an eyebrow as if to ask, "Could Tank and I finally be intimate?"

"With protection," he said quietly. "You aren't on birth control and must not get pregnant."

Wishing to get away from sex and birth control, Tank cleared his throat, "I have a message, "Ranger, Stephanie and the baby are coming back to visit after the New Year now that the fungus is no longer among-us."

Everyone groaned.

"Are they going to move back here?" Cal asked. He truly missed Stephanie.

"They haven't decided. It depends mostly on Steph. She still has reservations about Trenton, but is anxious to see all of you again. She needs to apologize."

"No she doesn't. It wasn't her fault what her mother said," Woody said.

Nobody needed to be reminded of the hell storm she went through her last day in town.

"For now Ranger will continue his counselling in Georgia. The doctors don't have a time line but are very happy with how he's progressing. I suspect they will release him into Celia's and her husband's care. Being psychologists and family will help smooth out the transition."

"Have they named the baby yet? It's been weeks now and we don't have a final name. The little guy can't go around with Ranger Jr. There's a lot of money riding on this," Eric complained.

Tank looked conflicted. "Yeah, I've been putting off telling you guys."

"Oh no, not Pierre," Lester moaned.

Tank looked offended. "What's wrong with Pierre?"

"If it was so great, you'd be using it yourself," Eric answered.

Tank deflected the comment, "Seeing as how the baby was born in Georgia and Ranger has been receiving medical care at Benning, they decided on the name Jethro," Tank said.

There was dead silence around the table. The only noise was the din from the front bar and the dance music.

"Jethro Manoso?" I heard mumbled.

"Oh shit, he really is sick," an unidentified Rangeman said.

Tank broke into smile, "Gottcha!"

There were many relieved faces. Tank was never known for his sense of humor until he married me. Now that I was home again, his playful side was once again making an appearance.

Tank continued, "They seriously considered Sotirios Pierre."

Jaws dropped again, including mine.

"Let's hope they come to their senses," I gasped.

Tank looked hurt. "Ranger always said he'd name his first son after me."

"Soo Tirrrr Re Ohs," Hector sounded out.

"Sam for short," I countered.

" _Oh Si_ " he said, "Sam I Am, Green Eggs and Ham."

Hal looked at Hector, "You learning English from Dr. Seuss?"

 _¿Cuál es el nombre del médico?_ (What is the doctor's name?) Hector replied.

I laughed to myself. I knew Hector spoke English.

I turned back to Tank, "Sotirios?" I asked.

"No they settled on Sam Pierre. He said he wanted to name his son after you and the closest they could get was Efron."

I shuddered. "Why would he want to name his son after me? We've never met."

"You saved his life."

I shook my head, "It was the RAF who rescued him. They should have named the baby Raphael. I had nothing to do with it."

"Not from what I hear. My sources are telling me you pissed off several different countries' military making a stink, insisting the rescue team be added to the mission. You lived up to your moniker, Bitch."

The guys gasped when they heard Tank call me Bitch.

"That's Ft. Dix Bitch to you mister," I responded. "My philosophy is never, ever leave anyone behind."

Tank smiled, "Thank you." The other guys raised their beer bottles in salute, "Hoo Rah!" I raised my water bottle in return salute, "To Ranger, Stephanie and little Jethro."

That brought laughter and another "Hoo Rah!" I wondered if the child's nickname might actually sick. That would be fun. Maybe it could become a code name.

As the guys drank their beer and ate their pizza I sat and absorbed all. These were truly a wonderful group of guys. I had gotten to know them earlier in the year and found them to be caring, honorable men. I laughed to myself, "My life is definitely male oriented. Had I ever had a close female relationship outside of my mother...and Sarah? Do I even know how to relate to a civilian female? Stephanie might be the only one."

My mind was still cruising around when Tank asked, "What to dance?"

I really didn't but I could tell he did. "Slowly, my balance isn't what it should be."

"Don't worry, I'll hold you tight," he said as he led me to the dance floor.

"You two going to practice," Lester asked.

"Don't ever change Lester, somebody has to set the low bar," I said.

He laughed, "That's my job."

"And you do it so well," Bobby replied.

As a child and young adult, loud music hurt my ears. Years of gunfire has robbed me of some hearing as it has most people exposed to it; the bar music as only slightly uncomfortable.

We made our way onto the dance floor to a somewhat slower dance. It felt good being in his arms and I rested my head on his shoulder. He really was agile and a great dancer, we melded together and moved about the floor effortlessly. He knew my sound problem and kept us away from the amplifiers. At the music's end he loosened his grip and I pulled my head back only to be hit by dizziness and nausea, motion sickness. Drat, I was hoping to get through the night without hurling.

"Excuse me," I said rather quickly, "Nature calls." No way was I going to tell him the true purpose of the visit to the ladies room. He'd be on my heels. Before I could go far someone grabbed my arm. It was a dark haired guy about six feet tall, whiskey colored eyes.

"I'm told you may know where Stephanie is."

"Excuse me, who are you?" I asked quickly trying not to stumble from dizziness.

"I'm Joe Morelli. You may have heard of me."

Stephanie did say he was nice looking and I had to agree. His hair needed cutting, but otherwise everything looked trim and well maintained, but I wasn't in the mood to converse. "I thought you lived in St. Louis."

"I'm here to bury my grandmother Bella."

My stomach was getting jumpy, "My condolences to you and your family, but I have nothing to tell you."

His hand was tightening on my arm, "Please, where is Stephanie?"

"After you and Mr. Manoso left, she had no defence from the lies, rumors, innuendos, and gossip here. Her family, friends, and Burg residents, ground her down. She went to start a new life far away from Trenton."

"We were going to get married and live elsewhere."

"Mr. Morelli I don't know about your plans with her nor do I know where she is. She needed a clean break from everything Trenton and the Burg...and apparently you. Wherever she is, it's a new life." (Technically I didn't know where she was living as she had moved from my condo but remained in Columbus with her husband, Carlos Manoso.)

"Is she pregnant?" he asked.

"No. Mr. Morelli, it is time you move on with your life, she has. Now excuse me, I'm about to be sick….."

I hurried down the hallway and into the small ladies room my mind flashed, "Don't they teach math or biology in Trenton schools? It's been 14 months since he's seen her." I chose the middle of three stalls and shut the door.

* * *

Lula, Tank's former girlfriend was also at Pino's and watched Tank and some woman dance. "Who is that with Tank?" she asked her date.

"That's his wife, the Fort Dix Bitch. They were married before she shipped off to the Middle East. Apparently she's been sick, she's lost a lot of weight," the date answered. He had recently been released from the Army.

Lula remembered the woman from the previous summer when she came for lunch with Tank and the other two Rangeman. She had been all military in her camos, cold-a real bitch, not at all gregarious like Tank likes. She was the reason Tank no longer called and would barely talk to her.

The more Lula watched the angrier she got. Tank was her man and though they had a little disagreement a while back, Lula figured they'd get back together when Tank needed a good time. Now he had a wife, a tall, skinny ass woman with short hair, almost cut like a man's. She was all bones; there wasn't enough on her for Tank to grab. He was a massive man and needed a big beautiful woman of darker color, not that caramel bag of bones bitch.

Lula couldn't remember Tank ever dancing with her, never held her in that tight loving grip. She tried to remember, did he ever kiss her behind the ear like he did that bean pole?

Lula turned back to her Mojito and continued to fume. When the music ended she watched the skinny ass woman moved towards the ladies room. She watched her talk to Morelli. She's probably making it with him just as Stephanie did Joe and Ranger. Tank deserved better than a two timer. Blind rage flared in Lula's eyes, she'd get Tank back!

Frosyni held onto the toilet seat and squatted down. The bathroom door opened but the person didn't move into one of the other stalls. Instead the sound was of a purse being dropped onto the counter. The woman was probably digging for her lipstick.

Frosyni's mind returned to the toilet. There's no quiet way to vomit. Suddenly a sound like a cannon resounded through the bathroom.

"He's mine! He's mine!" Lula screamed as she continued to fire all 15 rounds from her Glock through the bathroom stall door.

"Drop your weapon, Drop your weapon" screamed the TPD cop Big Dog as he stood in the restroom door way with his weapon drawn.

Lula by now was weeping, "He's mine, he's mine." Joe Morelli was behind Big Dog. He was unarmed, he wasn't a TPD cop, but he could see the slide had kicked back indicating the handgun was empty.

Joe called out, "Lula, drop the gun, it's over."

Lula let the big automatic fall to the floor. Cautiously Joe stepped around Big Dog, kicked the gun further away, noting the bloody water seeping under the stall door. He pushed back the revulsion, whirled Lula around as Big Dog handed him his handcuffs.

The men of Rangeman had been in the bar's back room and took longer to respond to the gunfire. Tank pushed his way into the small restroom and froze. Joe was handcuffing Lula, the giant Glock was on the floor, the bullet ridden stall door remained closed, while the two other stalls were open. Blood and water swirled across the floor as it passed into the floor drain. He looked at Lula and screamed, "What have you done?"

"Tank baby…." She cried.

"Get her out of here," Tank boomed. Joe dragged Lula out of the ladies room before Tank tore her apart. The hall was clogged with Rangeman and other TPD cops, most with their weapons drawn. They stared at Lula in disgust.

With a bellow as loud as the Glock had been moments before, Tank raised his mighty leg and kicked in the stall door. His mind was prepared for the worst, but not his heart. "Frosyni!" he screamed.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

 **Answering many pleas, here is the next chapter's important part. I'll put the rest in the following chapter.**

Tank's kick sent the door crashing into the side panel with a resounding crash. The hinge on the door top failed and the door fell as it rebounded back towards Tank. He had his arm out prepared to deflect the door but instead was hit by water spraying from the wall's water pipes punctured by bullets. Bloody water washed across the floor, flowing too fast to be captured by the drain.

Tank stood and stared. He couldn't move. He didn't feel the water soaking his clothes. He was numb.

Hector and Bobby were behind Tank, staring into the stall and the carnage. The wall was in pieces, water spewed from the broken pipes, and the toilet was missing a section. The floor was flooding as the drain was inadequate for the flow, the blood was greatly diluted, but there was no body.

Big Dog immediately checked the first stall, no body. Hector splashed through the water to the far stall, the one for handicapped.

" _Esta aqui_ ," Hector said quietly.

The flooded floor had a new blood trail coming from behind the taller handicapped toilet. Bobby, the medic, immediately pushed Hector aside and slid down between the wall panel and the toilet to trace the blood source. Somehow Frosyni had wedged herself between the toilet and the far wall with her head partially behind the toilet. Her head was bleeding badly.

As he ran his hand along the back of the toilet stem reaching for a throat pulse, he called out, "I need my bag." In the hall Cal took off for the SUV in the parking lot and Bobby's medical back pack. Meanwhile Hector smashed the paper dispenser's plastic covering and yanked out the roll of paper, handing it to Tank who gave it to Bobby.

Tank was leaning over the toilet trying to figure out how to get his wife out from the extremely confined space. He was reaching down trying to find her hands or feet.

Bobby found a pulse, it was too fast as was her breathing; signs of shock. Her clothes were soaked. "Frosyni, can you talk?" There was no way to determine if she was conscious, her face was plastered against the floor. He parted her hair hoping he would not find a penetrating bullet wound. Several times he spoke to her but she didn't respond.

He felt her head move a bit. "...drown," she whispered.

Finally she was speaking, but the water level was rising and she was face down. He quickly felt her neck for a cervical injury and then using one hand, lifted her head back out of the water. "How did you get in?" He asked as he looked carefully to see she how wedged herself between the toilet and the side and back wall.

"…motivated," she whispered.

Bobby's rearranged his body to block water from reaching her, but it continued to seep in from under the wall behind the toilet and from the front where the level was rising due to the drain's inability to carry away the volume.

Reaching from the top, Tank lowered his hand to Bobby who guided the massive hand to Frosyni's forehead, "Lift gently, we have to keep her head above the water."

Emergency first responsers were now entering the ladies' restroom and word came the water meter had been found the water would be turned off shortly. Water was now topping the door threshold and pouring into the hallway. The level would not now get any higher now that it was escaping down the hall.

By now it was apparent she had escaped by crawling under the stall wall panel and wrapping herself around the side and back of the larger handicapped toilet. She had tucked up so tight, sliding under the bowl's flair she was not coming out easily. Hector took over the task of finding her feet and hands. The feet were behind her knees, there was no way to extend her legs and pull her out along the wall. Hal appeared with a wrench and within moments had loosened the one floor bolt on Bobby's side, but there was no room on Forsyni's side to reach the bolt. Her body completely covered the bolt.

A fireman appeared with a sledge hammer. Thick blankets were thrown over Frosyni and Bobby who was holding a compress to her head. Tank reluctantly let loose and backed away. With several mighty blows the toilet shattered sending porcelain and more water around the stall.

Quickly Tank, Hector and a fire rescue lifted the cramped, soaking wet woman out of her confinement.

Bobby did a quick assessment, "The bullet creased your skull. Other than your head, are you hurt?"

Her eyes were closed and face scrunched in pain. She opened an eye glanced at Bobby and winced, "Muscle cramps…and….." Immediately she began to vomit, moaning between each abdominal clench.

Once on the medical gurney, Bobby finished wrapping her head while blankets were wrapped around the semi-conscious soaking wet woman.

An EMT had the blood pressure cuff, "BP 85/55."

"Let's move it," Bobby ordered.

Frosyni shut her eyes but began shivering. The cold water, the trauma of being shot, adrenaline let down, and her already weakened condition made her unable to stop the tremors.

As the gurney moved through the hall and bar, onlookers looked for blood. They saw the bloody head wrapping and the uncontrollable movements and immediately word went out Tank's wife had been shot on the head and was convulsing. Rumors would have her in a coma and brain dead before the ambulance reached the hospital.

By the time the sutures were in and a quick trip for a head scan which revealed no brain bleed or swelling; new dry clothes had been brought from Rangeman so all four: Frosyni, Bobby, Tank and Hector could be warm again.

The next morning while receiving another unit of blood to offset that which washed down the drain, two police detectives were in the room with her. She recognized both; Detective Radish and Sore Jello, but didn't dare use their nicknames. There was little to remember about the shooting, just the need to escape and either confront the shooter or hide. She chose to hide. When told the shooter was Lula, she wasn't sure she had ever met her. Tank reminded her of the lunch the previous summer at Pino's but Frosyni still seemed unsure. "Give me time."

When released the following afternoon, Tank lifted her into the SUV while Bobby rode shotgun and Hal drove. As they drove through the afternoon traffic to Tank's house, everyone replayed the prior night's events in their mind. Tank replayed the gut wrenching fear when he saw the bullet ridden door and blood and the disgust for Lula. Bobby was reliving the fear especially when he saw the blood pouring from her head. How did she manage to crawl under the bathroom wall panel and wedge herself into such a tight space? It was Frosyni who allowed her thoughts to become speech, "Boy, you guys sure know how to show a gal a good time." Everyone had a little smile, she was trying to relieve the tension in the SUV.

Once again the traveling motion made her nauseous. "Do you have a bag?" Hal reached under the seat and brought forth a small kitchen bag. A few dry heaves was all she could muster. "Damn, the heaves don't help a headache." Putting her head back against Tank's shoulder she spoke, "I am fed up with this injury and illness baloney. No offense Bobby but I don't want to see you professionally for a long, long time."

"Likewise,'" he smiled back.

Tank chimed in, "You've had a lousy year. Let's hope the new one is problem free."

"For everyone," Hal uttered from the driver's seat. He was thinking of Ranger, Stephanie, Damien, Cruz, Vince and Carl as well as Frosyni.

I uttered, "Amen." I then raised my head to his ear, "I don't call marrying you lousy."

He smiled and kissed my temple. "Me neither."


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Back to work. How long has it been I actually worked a 12 hour day? Was it the Sandbox, no probably all those darn meetings afterwards. Then I got back to Dix and have been feeling like hell. I dropped my head and want to run my fingers through my hair but immediately run into the hair piece covering up the stitches. Someone in emergency got a bit carried away with the clippers.

In addition to a backlog of work, I've been reading, analyzing and responding to new intel. My brain was quivering in three different languages.

Finally it's quitting time. It's a cold, grey January day, very much like the one a year ago when my apartment blew up and I was thrust into one crazy year. This time I wasn't going against the traffic, I was inching along with it. Snowflakes were falling; they were big and wet, a nor 'eastern storm.

Ranger and Stephanie were coming to New Jersey tomorrow. I hope the storm doesn't keep them from getting here. They'll stay with the Manosos for a while before coming down to Trenton for several days. Steph has to return to her job and Ranger his care in Georgia.

While waiting for a traffic light, I hit the cellphone, "I need something physical, where are you?"

I heard his chuckle, "What did you have in mind?"

"If you are at the office I'd like some foreplay on the mats."

"Bobby is sitting here shaking his head, no can do. You are still on restricted action."

I growled.

"Will Bachata, Salsa and Tango do?"

"Yeah…I'm halfway home, I'll be dressed when you get home." I hung up.

Bobby chuckled. "Sounds like fun."

"Grab yourself a date and join us," Tank smiled.

Bobby laughed, "My lady takes more than 15 minutes to get ready. She's high maintenance compared to Frosyni."

"Everyone is high maintenance compared to her, but she is always lovely."

Bobby smiled, "Spoken like a man in love."

My dance dress was little more than negative space. The fabric caught around the neck, covered the front but cut low in back, down to there. One skirt side was slit up to there. Never may the two "theres" meet. I have one dance dress; Tank assures me one is enough. He probably likes to hold my bare back. He doesn't have to tape a bra on with double sided tape. I sure don't want those things swinging around while dancing…or walking. Shoes have to be heels, not that I need the height, they made me feel sexier and when you are wearing a hair piece to cover the stitches on top, sexy shoes are a good distraction.

Tank quickly changed into his looser pants. I didn't ask him about his parts swinging around. No double sided tape, though I did smile thinking about it. What's good for the goose is good for the gander… He selected a silk shirt with a squared off bottom. This allowed him to tuck a Baby Glock in his back holster. As he wrapped me in a near floor length coat he asked, "Are you carrying?"

I laughed, "Where?"

He looked up one side and down the other, "I see your point."

The snow wasn't accumulating as much as I expected. I hoped the club wasn't too busy. The two of us take up a lot of dance floor.

We paid the cover charge and after checking our coats, we were shown to a table. Almost immediately the waiter brought us a pitcher of ice water and pina coladas. The alcoholic drink would be our only one and sipped through the evening. We both had work tomorrow. The water was far more important.

We danced for nearly an hour, straight through. My heebie jeebies from being confined all day were being worked out nicely. After a particularly erotic version of bachata we returned to the table where we found Bobby Brown and a lovely dark skin woman.

"I'm glad you two decided to sit down before this whole place combusted," Bobby said. His date was a tall, 5'10" golden skin woman named Amanda. She was bubbly but looked tired, like she'd rather be in bed instead of dancing. Once we were introduced she looked at me as if we had met. Suddenly recognition crossed her face and her eyes shot to the top of my head.

"Amanda is a trauma doctor at St. Francis. We met the night you had your scalp creased." Bobby said.

I nodded and looked at her, "Hair piece."

She nodded, "Looks good and stays on while you dance."

"How long have you been at St. Francis?" I asked.

"Only a few weeks. You having any side effects from your wound?"

"Other than dreading the hair piece coming off at the wrong time," I laughed.

After a sip of what I suspected was water with lime she asked, "Do you work with Bobby?"

"No, I'm in the Army."

I've always wondered what women do in the Army."

I smiled out of courtesy, "Whatever we can qualify for, physically and mentally just as the guys. I'm strongly against putting women where they aren't qualified just to satisfy some women's rights opinions."

"And what do you do?" she asked politely.

"Read and write a lot of garbage."

The guys laughed. They liked my deflection. I doubted Bobby knew the extent of my work, but Tank knew more, not all, just more.

The next dance was the Salsa and Bobby and Amanda got up and danced. Tank and I sat it out. Tank took out his phone and I feared he had an emergency call. Instead he was scrolling. He smiled and tucked his phone away.

"I'll be back….." he said as he went to the bar and returned. When Bobby and Amanda returned, the waiter brought an ice bucket and champagne with four glasses. The three of us looked at Tank with questions. After pouring four glasses he smiled, "One year ago today, an apartment building on Cutler exploded and I found a barbecued Army major in my veterinarian's office. Through Bobby's quick action, she survived that day and eventually became my wife."

Something came into my mind, "Sir, if I remember when you called me barbequed, I asked which you preferred; Memphis or Kansas City. For the life of me I don't recall an answer."

Tank smiled, "Memphis with a healthy dose of Greek oregano and Panamanian chili."

I was planning a response when Bobby cut in. "Frosyni, it has been my honor to be your medic this last year. You have kept me on my toes on procedures and treatments. I've come to regard you as…Rangeman family and that was before you married this big lug. May you two have many more years together, but please, not as exciting as this past one."

I kissed them both. Amanda said, "Someone is going to have to catch me up."

I smiled and said, "I'll leave that to Bobby. Meantime my big lug and I have a Tango to dance."

Tango was our dance and regular club goers knew to give us a bit more room. We tended to move about. When the floor cleared, our dance became more intimate and physical, more than the usual _ganchos, boleos_ and _volcadas_. I'm always amazed how he can lift and swing me with the _sentanda_. At the conclusion, now Bobby had reason to worry about the club combusting.

Leaving the floor I looked at Tank, "Maybe I won't continue bulking up, I don't want to injure you."

He laughed, "I'm not worried. I'll just work harder."

Bobby looked at Tank, "I had no idea you could dance like that."

Tank smiled, "Let's keep it between us, I don't need the guys giving me a hard time."

With that the four of us got up and danced the salsa and bachata for a while. We left the younger crowd to dance the night away.

* * *

"Ranger," Stephanie said, "Put Sam back in bed. He's fine. You and he need to sleep."

I'm just telling him about his family he'll meet tomorrow; my parents, all his aunts, uncles and cousins. It will be a stressful day."

"He's almost 4 months old now, he's strong and used to strange faces and funny sounds," she said. "The only one I'm worried about is when we take him to Rangeman. No child should be exposed to Lester."

Ranger almost rolled his eyes, "It will be strange seeing my son in Tank's hands. I never thought that would happen."

Stephanie continued, "I never thought I'd have a baby or you'd be the father. Life goes in strange directions. I'm glad Bobby cleared Frosyni to be near the baby. How it broke my heart watching you wanting to hold Sam but couldn't."

Ranger shook his head in agreement. He had been forced to wear a mask, gown and gloves when he interacted with Sam for nearly four weeks. Now he can't stop touching and holding him. Ranger also knew the other reason why their trip north had been postponed; the incident between Lula and Frosyni. He hadn't told Steph about it.

 **Ranger POV**

Our flight was delayed a few hours due to the snow, but the family was still waiting, in-mass. Dad and Javier had been keeping the sidewalks cleared for when we arrived. We were hardly out of the car when we found ourselves surrounded by family.

Mom threw her arms around me, "You are looking better."

That wasn't hard since I resembled death warmed over last time she saw me. Dad's hug with long and strong, "Hijo."

Sam was asleep in his carrier, tucked under the blanket my mother bought when she was in Georgia. Once all of us were safe and warm in the house and people gushed over the sleeping child, he decided now was the time to make his entrance. With the stretch and scrunch of a baby waking up, he yawned and opened his eyes to a multitude of Manosos's looking back. He had a choice, scream or to smooze. I'm proud to say he smoozed.

It was a good thing Sam liked people and found everyone's face fascinating. He studied his grandparents', aunts', uncles' and myriad of cousins with great interest and added his own Ohs and Ahs to conversations. He especially loved male voices and would lay his head against the men's' chests and listen. When he found my chest rumble he'd smile, "This is Daddy."

Sam has brought calmness to me, unlike anything I've ever experienced. I briefly held Julie but wasn't emotionally attached. While I adored being in my wife's arms, there was something about this soft, fat infant that made world madness disappear…for a while. The little bundle was helping with the Post Traumatic Disorder as well if not better than the psychiatrists. Many times Stephanie has caught her two men together, one talking softly, the other in rapt attention as if the world depended upon the information I was imparting. Someday that information would be critical to his survival, now it is guy talk.

Our stay with my parents allowed me to settle even more. The long talks and walks I had with my family, especially Celia or her husband, helped tremendously. I was regaining control and trusting my instincts once again. Stephanie was also healing. How my family so varied from her own family; here was love, support and acceptance. Each family member cared and nurtured one another. How different would her life be if she had been born into such a family? I probably would have never met her.

Stephanie had yet to see her own family. She had talked to Valerie and her father on the phone and promised to "get together" when she came to Trenton, whenever that would be. She did not ask about her mother, though her father told her Helen was "under care."

 **Stephanie POV**

It was time to journey south to Trenton. I tried to remain calm but just thinking about the trip made me nervous. Ranger drove us by way different roads. Instead of driving the usual highways, he selected a route that allowed us to slow down and enjoy New Jersey. It took me a while to realize he was trying to lessen my anxiety of returning to Trenton by out of the way routes, routes rarely if ever traveled. By the time we were only blocks from Rangeman I hadn't begun to panic.

Rangeman was exactly how I had left it, some 10 months or so ago. We didn't have key fobs, but it didn't matter. As soon as we pulled onto the drive, the gate began to open. We'd get new fobs. The first parking spot, Ranger's spot was open and waiting for us.

Just as in Newark, the car was still running when the door to the building opened and our friends emerged. Ella and Louis lead the way. We were enveloped in a second cocoon; this one Rangeman. It was like being with the Manosos except there was more muscle.

Instead of going directly to the 5th or 7th floor, we went to the largest conference room. There the table had been removed and a sofa and a couple of chairs added. The rest of the open space was for people.

Over the next several hours we three Manosos were the center of attention. Only a few men had actually seen Ranger in his visit several months ago, but all had heard about his weight loss. Ranger was still slender and his hair was growing out. I was hugged and kissed and worried Ranger would be jealous. He wasn't, he just smiled.

Sam was the center of attention, everyone wanted to hold him. My boy was Hog Heaven with all the male voices. When he became fussy he went back to his father for some serious rebonding before being passed off to new hands and chests.

Ranger leaned over to me, "I'm glad he's a boy, I'd be upset if a daughter was so comfortable in so many men's arms." Most of the guys held Sam with wonder, except Hector. Hector whispered something to Sam that made the baby throw his head back and grin.

"I may rethink what I just said," Ranger muttered.

"Hush," I scolded my husband, "Hector has many nieces and nephews. This is old hat to him."

Tank and Bobby came into the room, they had been on a call.

Ranger stood, "Sam Pierre, meet your Godfather." Tank's massive hands swallowed the small baby who looked up and stared. As Tank started to speak, Sam frowned and became fussy. I knew what to do.

"Hold him against your chest when you speak. He likes the vibrations."

"Like this," Tank asked and Sam's eyes opened wide and he uttered….."ooooooh." Tank began humming something I had never heard.

"What are you humming," I asked.

"It's form the opera 'Prince Igor' by Alexander Borodin. The title is "No sleep, no rest."

"Since when do you know about opera?"

"Since I met Frosyni."

When it was Bobby's turn, Sam once again became fussy. This time I knew it was feeding time. I pulled out a prepared bottle, had Ella warm it from water heated in the microwave. Bobby sat down and fed the baby.

"Sam, meet your medic, he's already giving you a visual exam."

Bobby looked up, smiled and winked.

Once the party wound down, Tank led us up to the 7th floor. Nothing had changed, except Ranger's home office had been converted to a baby room. The same style crib and changing table as in Georgia dominated the room. A dresser in the same furniture suite had been added along with a rocking chair and lamps and other necessities like the diaper disposer. There were clothes in the closet, diapers in the drawers along with socks, shoes and other baby necessities. If I looked closely I'm sure I would find Ella's and Mari's finger prints.

"The guys didn't know what color to paint the room so went with this blue. If you want something different, let them know. It will be done instantly," Tank said as he backed out and went down the hall.

"How did they know about the furniture style," I asked Ranger.

He shrugged, "Purchase orders I assume."

As Ranger made a final check on Sam, I went out to the living room and threw my arms around Tank.

"Thank you…for everything."

"Baby Girl, I told you in Georgia, you are family. Welcome home."

I wasn't sure this would be our permanent home, but it was home for now.

Ranger came up behind me and put his arm around my waist. I continued, "How is Frosyni?"

Tank and Ranger exchanged a quick glance I had come to realize was their silent man talk.

Finally Tank replied, a bit slowly, "She fine, you'll see her later. She's at work."

I stiffened, I knew something was up. "What aren't you telling me? Is she still ill?"

"No, no, nothing like that, she's clear." Tank said.

"There's something else, tell me. Ever since I've been here there's been this aura hanging over this place like something bad has happened."

Ranger led me to the couch and sat down next to me. Tank took a chair opposite us but pulled it closer and sat.

Tank began quietly, "Just before Christmas Frosyni finished with her treatment. She had been ill, like Carlos."

I remembered how Ranger suffered with nausea.

"We decided to go to Pino's for the usual Friday night get together. The guys hadn't seen her since her return."

Tank had a little smile on his face and laughter in his eyes, "It was a fun night, lots of love and laughter. She bonded will with the men here when she was rehabbing. She can even handle Lester," he chuckled.

His face became blank again. "After we danced a bit she stepped back and said Nature Call. I thought she had to pee, I didn't think she was feeling nauseous or else I would have gone with her."

Tank looked at Ranger and gave a small shake of his head hoping I didn't see it.

"No what?" I asked.

"It isn't germane to the story," Tank responded.

"Tell me anyway. I've learned when people leave something out, especially this "important" I needed to know."

Tank sighed, "On her way to the ladies' room she was stopped by Joe Morelli. He was in town to bury his grandmother."

My mind absorbed the information without reacting, I hoped. Bella was gone; I wanted to cheer but figured she'd find a way from the beyond to curse me.

"And…." I asked.

"Joe wanted to know where you were. Frosyni stretched the truth a bit; she told him she didn't know. Technically she didn't have your new address. When Joe pushed her for more information she told Joe you had moved on with your life, new job, new town, and he should too. He asked if you were pregnant; not had you been pregnant. Since you had already given birth, she said no."

"OK, that's wasn't so bad…..continue with what happened at Pino's." I urged.

Tank put his head down into his hands for a moment and then raised them taking a deep breath, "Fro made it to the ladies' room and into the stall. She felt she was going to vomit and squatted down, she didn't lean over, thankfully. A woman came into the ladies room after her, took out her handgun and started firing into Frosyni's stall."

"Oh my God," I gasped. "Was she hurt?"

"First shot creased her head. If she had been sitting or leaning over, she would have caught several rounds. Good thing the woman couldn't handle her Glock."

My heart stopped. Glock, Lula carried a big Glock. I didn't say anything but I'm sure they saw the fear in my eyes.

"Frosyni dropped to the floor and forced herself under the partition wall to the next stall. She required about 20 stitches to close the head wound."

I could see the anguish in Tank's face and I knew.

"It was Lula, wasn't it?"

He nodded. "She saw Fro and me dancing, learned we were married and went nuts."

"What happened to her," I asked fearing the worst.

"Big Dog was the first in the restroom followed by Joe. They could see the gun was empty. Joe took the gun, handcuffed her and took her out of the bar."

"And…"

"She was arraigned and the judge ordered her for a 30 day psychiatric evaluation. She's still under evaluation. We'll know more shortly."

"Is Frosyni OK?"

"She is mad. She says she'll never be able to grow her hair back long if people keep burning or shooting it off." He forced a smile.

"Seriously, is she OK?"

"Stephanie, it's not the first time she's been under fire. She's trained, she knows how to react quickly. I'm just sick it was Lula."

When Tank left, I just sat quietly. I thanked God Lula was still a lousy shot, but also she had emptied the gun before Big Dog arrived; otherwise he probably would have shot her.

Ranger was once again reading my mind. As he handed me a water bottle and kissed my temple he said, "It wasn't your fault."

"I know, I've worked that out. I was remembering my head last winter, learning I was pregnant, not being able to trust anyone but Frosyni. Lula would have had the information around the Burg in hours. She was as much a part of the Burg hotline as anyone. Then there was the breakup between her and Tank earlier. I never knew what happened but she blamed herself."

Ranger pulled me closer, "Tank told me he was tired of the debasement. Lula was a bit too raw for him; in words and actions. His return to the church had kicked in, he wanted a better life. He was maturing."

"Like us?"

Ranger shook his head, "Like us."

Ranger took my hand, "Tank's life ended when his family was killed. He saw it happen. Instantly he was out of control. When he escaped from his foster family he found me and tried to kill me."

"Why?"

"Blind rage, he hated everyone. He wanted to hurt others like he hurt."

"Why would you take someone home who tried to kill you?" I asked in amazement.

"He was my friend. He was still a lost when Abuelita Rosa got to him. Afterwards, he was calm. It was the same Cuban voodoo she used on me a year later."

After a while I said, "I'd like to see Lula if possible before we go back to Georgia."

"I'll see if I have any unused favors here, Babe."


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

 **FF and I are having issues. Apparently I posted chapter 8 and am trying to get 28 up but running into all sorts of problems. Each time I get to Manage Story, my Doc Manange file is all code. Curious. I keep erasing and re-doc manage but….argh! If you are reading this without code mish mass, the problem is hopefully fixed but I'm giving FF at least 30 more minutes. Thank you all for your concern and messages**


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

 **Problems apparently fixed! Yipee!**

 **Dinner at the Manosos**

 **Frosyni POV**

I carefully placed the hair piece on top of my head to cover the bald spot where I received the stitches. The curly hair was something unusual for me and really gave me the Halle Berry look when she wore hers short and spikey or curly. I decided to go the full route and add earrings and sultry eye make-up. I smiled remembering the previous night at the dance club and our love making after. Maybe I needed to cut back on the sultry for this night. I'd be meeting Tank's best friend the first time.

I had two pair of wool trousers. One I had already outgrown now that I was back in physical training. Most women want to lose weight and mass, I wanted to put it back on. This second pair would last until spring, maybe. I added a light weight turtle neck sweater and a wool jacket. Together they made me appear as if there was more mass than there really was. Since it was January, I went with boots with 2 inch heels.

Tank smiled as I walked into the living room. "We could stay home."

I laughed, "If I wear anything other than my ACUs you get all hot and bothered."

"Not true, you are hot in them too, it's just I have to control my urge to salute first."

"I assume that was a double entendre."

He laughed, "No, but…"

We stopped on the 5th floor at Rangeman for Tank to sign several papers. I stood at ease by the front desk. I saw Lester come out of his office not paying attention and nearly walk into me. He stopped and stared. Finally he said, "Leave your boy toy and come away with me darling."

"Where, to the nursery?" I responded.

He threw back his head and laughed, "You sure you don't have a sister?"

"Nope, God only made one and she's mine," Tank said as he came towards us.

"Lester, when you are ready for a long term relationship, you'll find your woman. You just have to grow up first."

"Why when I'm having so much fun?" he said as he walked away.

With that Tank and I stepped into the elevator to for the 7th floor. Tank rang the doorbell and when the door opened, Tank said, "Carlos, I'd like to introduce you to my wife, Frosyni."

The pictures I had seen of him at his parents' house showed Carlos as a child, young teenager, graduate of first basic training, then Ranger school but by the time he had completed Special Forces his demeanor had changed. The man standing in front of me most resembled the Special Forces graduate but with years of combat to steel the eyes and set the jaw, but also of one coping with PTSD. He was still underweight, muscle mass diminished. That would change with time as he rebuilt himself. There were already signs; the way he carried himself; regaining confidence.

He immediately saluted and uttered, "Colonel." I returned the salute. He wasn't in service and I wasn't in uniform but I understood the gesture. When I put my arm down he immediately grabbed it and pulled me into a hug. Since I was in heeled boots, he was four inches shorter but still could whisper in my ear, "Thank you doesn't begin to cover everything I owe you."

Instead of arguing with him I simply said, "Just take care of your family."

When we separated I was nearly bowled over by Stephanie. "You don't mind do you?"

"It would be nice if you invited us in," I joked. We were still in the elevator hall in full view of the monitors.

Once inside Stephanie became weepy.

"You used up your five minutes of tears earlier lady," I said sternly but meant it as a joke. She laughed, "Yes ma'am," and wiped her tear away.

I looked at Carlos, Stephanie and Tank and said, "OK we all look great considering what we've been through, so let's skip that BS."

The other three laughed. After we all were settled and refreshments served, we began tentatively. Ranger started, "The first morning I was back here I was hit by barrage of info. One of the most stupefying was learning Tank was married. I was afraid…..and then he stopped.

"You thought I had gone back to…..Lula." The name was hard to Tank to say.

"You told me you were through with her before, I wasn't thinking that morning. Finally Bobby walked me through it, several times."

Ranger looked at me, "Tell me, why would a major fall for this guy?" he asked as he waved towards Tank.

"I don't believe I fell, I had to be led down the path step by step and sometimes dragged. He's very persuasive," I said.

Tank smiled and nodded in agreement.

I shook my head, "Up to the day of the explosion, I led a life in a self-imposed emotionally bereft shell even beyond what my work required. I did my duty as best as I could, I strived to be the best in martial arts, weapons, anything that required physical agility, strength, or intelligence. My work has often been extremely dangerous, I had to remain closed. I couldn't risk hurting someone. Suddenly two civilians come along, save my life and then one of them won't leave me alone," I said laughing at the end.

Ranger looked at Tank, "What made you take her home? There are plenty of rehab facilities."

Tank smiled his evil smile, "Unlike some people in this room, I saw and I wanted and wasn't messing around. My contract is over, the risk has been lessened…somewhat."

Ranger looked at me, "What did you see in him?"

"I worked with Delta Force for two years and not one got close to me. Along comes a damn Special Forces without bravado, he breaches my defenses with caring, warmth, and love. My training was failing me, my objectives were changing. Then I remembered Socrates: The secret of change is to focus all your energy not on fighting the old, but on building the new."

I smiled and turned to Stephanie, "I don't believe we discussed how you did and Carlos met?"

Ranger looked uncomfortable.

"Carlos," I said, "Stephanie and I talked at great length as I was recuperating. Unfortunately the first week is pretty much a blank now due to concussive issues."

Stephanie blushed, "First time was just for coffee, but the second time he came to my rescue. Joe Morelli hand cuffed me to the shower curtain rod.

"Kinky sex?" I asked.

She laughed, "No Joe was upset with me and broke into my apartment when I was taking a shower."

We then alluded to what we had been doing the past year; Stephanie's time in Georgia and her job. When the topic turned to Ranger's mission he stopped. "I don't know what I can discuss."

"Have you discussed it with your wife?" I asked a bit too professionally.

He looked at Stephanie, "Parts."

"How about with your core team?" I continued.

He shook his head, "A few more parts."

"The mission objective?"

"No ma'am."

"Carlos, I'll need to talk to you officially but privately. Right now I can tell you those responsible have been or are being dealt with."

"How do you know this?"

"It's what I do."

He looked at me with a trained blank stare. I returned it. I could out stone face him any day.

With that the doorbell rang and Ella wheeled in dinner. I stood to help her, "Sit down Colonel you are our guest," she scolded.

We are half way through dinner when the other family member announced his desire to join us.

"Finally I get to meet Jethro!" I said enthusiastically.

Ranger and Stephanie looked at me like I had consumed too much wine.

Tank just laughed and explained why I called the baby Jethro.

"Tank made a joke?" Stephanie asked astonished.

"I want you to know I have a keen sense of humor," he answered.

"Since when?" Ranger asked with a bit of shock and a lot of humor.

I wanted for Tank to answer, but he turned to me and winked as if to say…you are on. I smiled a big smile and said, "Amazing things happen with love, commitment, and regular sex."

Sam arrived in his mother's arms freshly diapered and with a giant smile on his face. He saw Tank and stuck out his arms and "Ahhhhek". Everyone froze.

"No that wasn't a word, just a sound, a coincidence," I assured them. How devastating to have the baby's first words not be Dada or Momma.

Tank took the child and started humming and rumbling. Sam's eyes opened wide.

"Great," I said, "Now he thinks you are a Harley Hog."

Eventually the discussion turned back to Ranger's remaining time in Benning and Stephanie's settling with her family.

"Daddy wants to talk to you," Stephanie said. He was rather in shock when you spoke to him."

"I was rather blunt."

She laughed, "Don't I know. I'm surprised the paint didn't peel off this room from your dressing me down."

Tank and Ranger looked at me.

"Trust me, I've done worse but not to a civilian."

"Daddy said it was exactly what he needed to kick him out of the chair and really look at what had been happening under his nose."

"He ignored his job as a father. Like so many he thought his responsibility ended with handing over his paycheck. How is your mother?" I asked.

"They tell me she is changing; they have her medicated but suspect bi-polar and early dementia," she said with pain.

"Stephanie, you did not cause this," I said flatly.

"I know, I know. She was always…..mercurial, but becoming more difficult the last few years. The drinking got heavier. Maybe those were the early signs. Grandma Mazur kept saying it was the change."

Ranger put his arm around her shoulder.

"And how is your grandmother? I found her to be unique, especially her direct style." I smiled.

"Oh?" Stephanie was curious as to what happened.

I laughed remembering the day. "If I hadn't been so primed to chew some ass I would have laughed. I showed up in uniform and she asked if I was dressed for Halloween. Then she assumed I was a guy and when I told her I was married to Tank, she asked if Tank was gay. I explained I was a woman and she said I didn't have much up top," I chuckled as I looked down at my C cups.

The three others chuckled.

Stephanie replied, "She's doing what she can, but she's nearly 90 now and slowing down. If Mom wasn't sick I think Grandma Mazur would rather live in a senior living facility with her remaining friends."

"How are your sister and family?"

"Valerie has blossomed," Stephanie said with giggle. "The busier she gets the better she handles it. She is truly a Burg mother. Mom succeeded with one of us," Stephanie shook her head sadly.

It was time for Colonel Bitch to step up again. "Stephanie you were always different from your sister. Do not let anyone make you feel like you must move back because of your mother. You can support her in other ways. You left, in part, to overcome that dependent personality; learn to think prioritize your thoughts and actions and not let others dictate your life. Focus on what you have here; your husband, your son, and a respectable job. Those are your priorities now. Remember what I said earlier; the secret of change is to focus all your energy not on fighting the old, but building on the new."

Stephanie shook her head, "I will have to see her."

"Yes but with your husband, son, and father alongside. From there you, Carlos, and your father will be able to determine where she is in her journey and how you can relate and help her."

You give good counsel," she said.

"That's why the Army pays be the big bucks," I replied.

Both Tank and Ranger laughed out loud. They knew otherwise.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

 **From Elenimou: There is no chapter 28. I used that spot to inform you about the posting problems. Nothing is missing, chapter 28 in now 29 and so forth. Thanks for all the inquiries.**

 **Loose ends**

It was a week day when husbands were at work, housewives shopped or had their hair done, and when children were in school. Ranger parked in front of the Plum house as he had many times, but this time Stephanie was his wife and they had a son.

The snow storm several days ago was still evident. The short sidewalk to the Plum front door had been shoveled and salted. The once pristine white snow banks were now urban grey.

Ranger opened the Cayman front door for Stephanie and lent a hand for her to get out. He then ducked in the back, handed his wife the baby bag and then unbuckled Sam's carrier from the safety restraints.

Grandma Mazur was at the front door. She had an instant smile when she saw the guests had arrived. When she opened the door, Stephanie noticed a cane in her hand.

"Arthritis acting up today, I'll be better tomorrow," she said with cheer as she saw her Stephanie and her child. Grandma Mazur wrapped her skinny arms around Ranger but kept her hands above his belt, "They said you were dead."

"I was in Hell, but I wasn't quite dead," he answered and for the first time he kissed her tightly curled white hair.

"Helen doesn't know you are Stephanie's husband," she said whispered while blushing from the kiss.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Ranger said. He didn't let on, but he was apprehensive. Reports about Helen's behavior over the last ten months indicated she could be volatile.

"Grandma, this is Sam," Stephanie said as she swung the baby carrier around.

"Ain't he a pip and a boy to boot? He's the first boy in three generations," she gushed. "He has your color Ranger and your hair Steph. He'll be a ladies man for sure."

Stephanie heard the stair squeak as it has for thirty years and she looked up. Her father was leading his wife down the stairs. Helen looked the same, her hair was recently set. After making sure his wife was settled on the couch he raised his head and smiled, "Come here Pumpkin and show me my grandson."

He looked at the little boy, "He's going to have your hair, curly. May I hold him?"

Taking Sam in his arms, he looked at Stephanie and Ranger and then took a breath, "Helen, this is your grandson, Sam. He's Stephanie's son." Slowly Frank leaned over the showed the boy to Helen.

Ranger and Steph moved around to stand in front of Helen. Sam was a little darker skinned than Valerie's daughters. Will her mother say something despairing?

Helen smiled, "He's lovely. He's the first boy in the family Frank. How I wanted to give you a son." She then looked up at Stephanie, "Aren't you going to introduce your husband?"

Stephanie glanced up at her father who gave her the, "do what you think is right" look.

Realizing her mother didn't recognize Ranger she began, "Mom, this is my husband Ricardo Carlos Manoso, he's originally from Newark."

Helen looked bewildered, "What do you want to call me to call you? You have two names," she asked.

He smiled and said, "You can call me Rick."

"Are you two really married?"

Stephanie steeled herself for a confrontation, "Yes, Mom, we were married in a civil ceremony in Georgia, but want to marry in the church as well." She lifted her left hand and showed her mother the ring Ranger had kept stored in the 7th floor gun safe and slipped on her hand when they got to Rangeman.

Helen asked, "Are you Catholic, Rick?"

"Yes ma'am."

"I hope you get Stephanie back to church," Helen said. "Where are you living now Stephanie? Surely you are not in your horrible apartment."

Did her mother miss the part about Georgia? This was not her mother. This was someone completely different. Stephanie's heart was aching. This was not her mother. This one was calm, almost understanding. Not the one who lectured her on how to be a Burg woman; how to behave and now not to get involved with the wrong boys like the Morellis.

"Rick and I live in Georgia. I work for a national corporation and Rick is working with doctors." OK, _with_ is subjective, she thought.

Frank butted in, "Helen, I want to talk to Rick for a while, maybe offer him some beer, do you mind if we guys go to the kitchen?"

She smiled, "Maybe he's like some coffee cake as well."

Stephanie cringed, beer and coffee cake. She looked at Ranger who kissed her lightly on the temple. Frank returned Sam to his mother's arm and he and Ranger walked through the dining room to the kitchen.

Sitting down next to her mother she noted Grandma Mazur sat on a nearby chair, "I have trouble getting up out of the couch lately," she said. "Darn Mr. Arthur Ritis."

Sam stared up at his grandmother watching her face. He scowled like he knew something was wrong but wasn't sure what. He became fussy and Stephanie took him to her shoulder, out of sight of his grandmother never breaking the conversation with her grandmother and mother.

The woman talked about all the stuff women talk about with new babies, breast feeding, formulas, food, and diapers. No mention was made of Stephanie long absence. No mention of Joseph. No mention of the Rangeman thugs. Her mother remained distant yet antsy like she wasn't quite sure what she should be doing or talking about.

After an hour the Manosos began to pack up the baby to leave. Ranger tucked Sam into the carrier so Stephanie could hug her mother, father and grandmother. She didn't cry but she was on the verge several times. "I'll visit again soon."

The drive home was quiet, Sam slept and neither Ranger nor Stephanie talked, they thought about the past hour's visit. Once back on the 7th floor Ranger sat down on the floor with Sam. Stephanie sat on the couch and watched her son try to do baby push up while is father watched with pride. Slowly Steph began to unwind. "It's so sad; I almost miss her harping, ironing and "ice tea" glasses. She was numb."

Ranger scooted across the floor and leaned against her legs, "Frank said he gave her an extra tranquilizer, with the doctor's permission, before we came. She still has moments when she flies off the handle like she did when Joe came looking for you or when Tank's wife talked with her.

With the medications her mood swings have leveled out, but her memory keeps slipping. She now spends her day cleaning the house or watching television. She isn't allowed near the stove or iron."

"Yeah, there wasn't speck of dust anywhere, but then there never was."

Stephanie sighed, "How am I going to apologize?"

"Apologize for what?"

"For not being…"

"Babe, want me to call Tank's wife? She seems to turn your mind around rather fast."

"Like Tank does for you?"

"He always has and now you have someone to kick you back on course."

"I thought that was your job now?" she smirked.

"I try, but now I have back up."

000

The jail door opened and Lula was lead out, dressed in an orange jumpsuit and in handcuffs. Stephanie's eyes began to tear up; Lula always wore orange well, but not this way. She looked a little slimmer, no access to doughnuts and fried chicken.

"Hey Girl Friend, you are back." Lula said with moderate enthusiasm. "Did you bring the baby?"

Shaking her head no, "Not allowed, but I've got pictures."

"Well what did you have, you going to keep me in suspense?"

Raising the photographs she had cleared with the guards first up to the screen she said, "A boy, Ranger's son."

"He looks like Batman but with your hair. Everybody thought it was Joe's baby."

"I would have been about 14 weeks pregnant the last time you saw me. Was I that big? I was maybe 8 weeks at most."

"I don't know about how women look with pregnant other than at the end when they are bigger than houses. You've had doughnut paunches from time to time, I didn't think anything of it," Lula said.

Stephanie remained quiet. Her mother knew the difference.

Lula continued, "How's your mamma? People say she has lost her mind."

"She has begun to. She's still living at home but the doctors have her on medicine. Grandma, Daddy and Valerie are taking care of her."

"I see a wedding ring. You and Batman married?"

"Yes. We are living in Georgia for the time being while he gets medical attention. His last mission was bad."

"People said he died."

"Very nearly." There was no reason to tell her more.

"You coming back here?" She asked with a bit of hope in her voice.

"I don't know. It would be easier not to come, but Ranger's family is in Newark. I'm not that close with my family anymore."

Lula put her head down in her hands, "Girl Friend, I want to apologize."

"For what? Stephanie asked incredulously.

"For being such a lousy friend."

"No you weren't, you and Mary Lou were my only friends. She was from childhood, but we hooked up as adults. We had a lot of good times and some bad but yet we came through them, usually laughing after. How many times were you my back up? How many stairs did we roll down together or bullets dodges or doughnuts consumed? You could sass Joyce Barnhardt with the best of them. I especially remember your fast action stun gun on Joyce. You were my protection and back up."

"You don't understand, I want to apologize for spreading rumors about you, for not being there when you needed me. I was afraid; I never had your courage. You were my friend, you saved my life. When I needed a place to stay, you took me in. I never offered to take you in when your apartment had an accident."

"You did once, until you woke me up firing out the front door."

"Oh yeah, I forgot. A gal has got to protect what she owns."

"Lula, I came here today as your friend. I want to know how you are doing. I'm worried about you."

"Stephanie, I really messed up. When you left, Vinnie kicked me out the door. I wasn't going back to being a ho so I had to find a job. I finally got one driving senior citizens around. I even wore my glasses. But I was lonely. I missed you, Connie, even that vermin Vinnie, Officer Hottie and Batman. Tank and I were no longer and item. He changed and wasn't fun anymore, but I missed him terribly. I saw him in Pino's and tried to entice him back but that woman walked in wearing her uniform and looking all…freaky and not reacting to my jabs. She was cooler than Batman. I couldn't understand what Tank saw in her. Then about a month ago she was in Tank's arms, dancing and he was holding her real tight. I could see he loved her and I was jealous and mad. That should have been me in his arms. When I learned they were married, she was in his bed, I lost it. He was my man, not hers. I lost it. I don't remember what I did, not until I was sitting in the police car, handcuffed, puking my guts out into the street. I could have killed her! I get sick just thinking about it."

"What does your attorney say?"

"Tank is paying for the attorney, do you believe it? I'll probably have to serve some time in jail. I don't know how long. I'm scared, Girl Friend, I'm really scared."

"I didn't know about Tank paying for an attorney. He hasn't mentioned it."

"He wouldn't."

The guard signaled our session was over.

"You didn't tell me the baby's name."

"It's Sam."

"What a curious name. Where did you come up with that?"

I couldn't tell her Sam was named for the father of the woman she tried to kill. "Sam I am Green Eggs and Ham."

She laughed as she got up, "Dr. Seuss? Ranger reads Dr. Seuss?"

"He does now," I said.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

 **Mall chaos**

 **Efrosyni POV**

I was finishing the last of the bottled water contemplating a peaceful day, no work, just time with Tank. We had already run ten miles in the frigid morning dawn. The rest of the day would just happen, no plans.

Tank hung up his cell, "You have a job."

"I know, I have US Army tattooed on my bum," I mumbled. I had a feeling my day off was just canceled.

He smiled, "I know that bum quite well and there's no such tattoo. Your job is to secure Stephanie, Sam and Mary Lou shopping today."

I gave Tank my best stone stare.

"The Manosos are returning to Georgia tomorrow and Steph wants some female quality time with her friend Mary Lou," he explained.

"And mall shopping on Saturday is female quality time?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

He shook his head, "Carlos wants his family protected. I know you'd rather run an active mine field than shop, but Steph wants it to be girls only and I know from the shared shower this morning, you fully fit the profile."

He most certainly did know I was a girl and I well knew he was a boy. Maybe another reason I married this man is he has rebuilt his house to accommodate larger people. From the near room size shower, the tub that held both of us easily to the raised counters and vanities, this is a king size home built for a king size man…and woman.

We arrived at Rangeman. Tank was in dark slacks and a pull over sweater; after all it was still his day off. I suspected he'd either spend it on paper work or in the gym while I was away. He'd owe me big time later tonight.

I was dressed not much differently than I did the night we had dinner on seven; my only pair of wool pants, blazer but with a blouse underneath. I really needed to blend in with the weekend shoppers at the mall, but keep some hiding places.

We went into Ranger's office on five. I recognized his command stance, he was in his element. Looking me up and down he kept his face neutral, "I assume you are armed."

Tank stood behind and to the side, "She could be naked and she'd take out a squad."

"Inappropriate," I scolded him without turning around.

He contritely said, "Yes it was. I'm sorry. I meant to say she doesn't need to be carrying weapons to be effective."

Before the conversation got too off track I responded to Ranger's question, "Two Kimbers and a Kbar."

He was satisfied. "Take the Cayman. It has the car seat as well as the stroller already inside. There's also a bag of extra clothes, diapers, and other necessities."

"Yes, sir."

Tank came forward and handed me a tracking device. "Press to call in the cavalry."

I kept my stone face, "You expect trouble?"

"It finds her. She'll be focusing on Sam," he said.

I nodded. I fully understood. "Time limit?" I asked turning back to Ranger.

His eyes steeled, "Probably no more than two hours because of the baby, but it might go longer."

"If it does I'll check in."

I remembered the last time I was at Quaker Bridge mall with Steph and we ended up in the Hooterville restaurant chasing down her purse. Today the purse was a baby bag; stealing that would result in milk in a bottle, diapers, wipes and other misc. baby items.

As we unpacked the stroller from the car Stephanie said, "You are going to stand out without a purse or shopping bag."

I agreed and decided to buy something at the first real store we encountered. Unfortunately the first stores were food or video galleries. It wasn't until we got to the main court was there an Ann Taylor. I knew they carried tall sizes but today I wasn't shopping for myself. I bought three scarves without even looking at them and was back in moments.

Mary Lou's mouth was open, "What can you possibly buy that quickly?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "Whatever is in here. It is light but large enough not to be a burden, but still require a visible bag. Am I suitably camouflaged now?"

She laughed, "She's a female Ranger."

Steph shook her head, "She may be worse," and winked at me.

"Ladies, I will trail behind a bit, even seem to disappear from time to time. If you split up, I'm will stay with Steph and Sam."

Mary Lou and Stephanie strolled through the mall, stopping in stores and occasionally purchasing something. I kept my eyes out for trouble while appearing to window shop as well. When Sam needed changing Stephanie and Sam went into the ladies' room to the changing station. I followed while Mary Lou guarded the stroller and purchases out front.

"You don't need to follow me in here," Stephanie said.

"I do, which is why I'm here and not Lester."

She laughed and commenced to changing the baby while I washed and rewashed my hands, fluffed my hair all the while watching who came and went from the ladies room. One woman came in, looked around, peeked at the baby changing station, made a quick pee, came to the sinks and washed her hands, reapplied lipstick and left. If it wasn't for her looking around especially at the baby changing station I might have ignored her. But then how often does one actually see a baby being changed on the pull down devices?

After eating in the food court the women were beginning to wear down and I knew this would be our last stretch in the mall's main gallery before we'd turn towards the exit. I was behind and to the side just crossing in front of a game store when I heard a gunshot and turned in time to see two young men came running out with a game console, no bag. People were screaming and running. The young man carrying the console was easily tripped. The box slipped from his hands as he skidded across the floor. His accomplice stopped and pulled down on me, but before he thought to pull the trigger, I broke his thumb and wrist. The gun fell to the floor, people screamed anew.

When I kicked the gun back into the game store, away from the public I looked back at Stephanie. She and Mary Lou were on the ground and the woman I saw in the rest room was scooping up baby Sam from the stroller. Shit.

"STOP THAT LADY! KIDNAPPER! KIDNAPPER!," I screamed as the lady began to run down the court and into a large department store. "CALL SECURITY! KIDNAPPER!" I was already running after her. I assumed security was already moving towards our area what with the gun shot and chaos in the area. Baby Sam helped by screaming in fear.

My legs were much longer; I was in better shape and she was encumbered by the crying baby, but she had a head start. People were panicking from the gun shot and the chaos up the mall around the game store. It was hard weaving in and out, trying to catch the kidnapper without knocking people over. The kidnapper began weaving and ducking about the display racks. Thankfully Sam kept up his howl. It was obvious her objective was the exit so I avoided the clothes racks and ran straight to the doors. I beat her there, blocking her exodus. The problem would be how to apprehend her and not harm Sam. I yelled, "THAT'S NOT YOUR BABY, KIDNAPPER!" I was being very vocal to get people to witness what was happening.

"Move Godzilla or I'll stun the baby," she hissed and indeed she had a small stun device in her hand.

"WHY DO YOU WANT TO KIDNAP THE BABY?" I said loudly mainly to inform those gathering around.

"Because it is Stephanie's and I can get good money for a baby," she spat.

"You're going to sell the baby?" someone gasped.

"Shut up bitch," hissed the kidnapper.

Inside I silently smiled, "Dig yourself a deeper hole, lady."

People were standing around staring, mouths open. Apparently they recognized the difference between a stun device and a hand gun and didn't feel threatened; after all this was New Jersey.

"If you stun the baby you'll kill him and you'll be out your money," I shot back as I adjusted my angle and depth. All I needed was a distraction…and good aim.

At that moment the kidnapper and I heard footsteps; they were heavy steps, perhaps security. Sam took that moment to flail and kick landing a blow to the kidnapper's nose. Between the footsteps and the nose kick the kidnapper flinched, I didn't. With a quick kick I sent the stun gun flying, I swung around, pressed Sam against the kidnapper's chest to secure him and with my other hand smashed the kidnapper's mouth and nose. As her knees buckled, I grabbed Sam and stepped aside letting the woman face plant on the floor.

A mall security man arrived with gun drawn. "Hands up!"

Really, I thought. How was I going to do that with a screaming baby?

One of the spectators pointed to the woman on the floor, "That's the kidnapper, you idiot. This woman saved the baby."

I added, "There's a stun gun behind that rack," I pointed with my chin. "You need to secure this….." I nudged the woman with my boot toe, "kidnapper. Have back up check on the baby's mother. Last I saw she was stunned unconscious in the mall."

The mall security man stood there uncertain what to do first.

The Ft. Dix Bitch appeared, "Call for back up. Put your weapon away. Secure the stun gun, preserve prints, and secure your suspect on the floor." I was assuming others would take care of Stephanie and Mary Lou.

Mall security remained stationery with weapon drawn but wasn't speaking. Others were trying to tell him what had happened but he was frozen in place. He had too many things to think about. His eyes danced from side to side but his gun remained pointing at me. I curled Sam up as much as I could on my shoulder giving the mall cop my torso for a target, not the baby.

Sam rewarded me by spitting up. I looked at the security man, "Handkerchief in my pocket, may I reach for it?"

He nodded. At least his brain was working a tiny bit.

When I reached in I felt the Rangeman panic button and pushed it then brought out the handkerchief, reached up to wipe Sam's chin.

The woman on the floor started moaning and rolled to the side. Her face was bloody. She reached up to her nose, pulled her hand away and looked at the blood. Screaming obscenities directed at me, she staggered to her feet. I wanted to put her back down but with Barney Fife the mall cop, I was limited in what I could do. The mall cop could only say, "Stop, stop," which went unheard or at least unheeded. Now I had to worry about the cop shooting at the kidnapper.

"Give me the damn baby," the kidnapper sneered with blood oozing from her nose and mouth.

I shook my head no, "This isn't your baby."

I watched the Bozo-red haired woman reach down between her breasts. No doubt there was a weapon down in that impressive cleavage. With a sudden side kick I sent both her feet went out from under her and she fell to the side and back, hitting her head on the floor, again. She was going to have a heck of a headache from two impacts. A small conceal carry hand gun slipped out from her bra along with a great portion of her right breast.

Thankfully the mall cop's only reaction was to gasp. I sincerely hoped he hadn't wet himself.

"Aren't you going to do something?" a sales clerk asked him.

Somebody else spoke up, "I've called 911; security is useless here."

I wanted to secure the newly exposed handgun before someone picked it up and involuntarily moved in its direction. The security man yelled, "Stop, don't move." I complied, showing one hand while the other held the baby against my upper chest and shoulder.

"Then you secure her weapon before someone snatches it," I advised.

He shook his head no.

"Really?" I said, this time out loud.

"I don't want you to hurt me," he stammered.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I tried to assure him.

"You dumb shit, put the gun away," somebody said.

"Quiet," I admonished. He's confused and untrained. He doesn't need more distractions. We'll wait for backup."

So we stood, facing each other. If there was a musical interlude it would be from some Spaghetti Western. Instead of the Good, Bad and Ugly it would be the Tall, Kidnapper and Mall Cop.

The doors behind me crashed open and immediately I was flanked by Hal and Cal, the cavalry arrived. The security man's face blanched; we three probably looked like his worst nightmare. None of us was less than 6'2", Hal is built like a blond stegosaurus, and Cal has the flaming skull tattooed on his forehead. I involuntarily glanced down at the mall cop's pants, he was damp.

"Where's Steph?" Cal asked.

"Stun gun in the main gallery along with Mary Lou, left of the main entrance near the game store; this trash bag grabbed Sam and ran," I answered.

Cal reacted quickly and without a word was back out the door heading for the main entry to the right. The mall cop's reactions were slower, thankfully. As if coming out from his daze, he blinked twice and squeaked, "Stop!" and fired.

People screamed and fell to the floor and began crawling away behind the clothes racks. I ducked down and turned around keeping Sam against my chest and moved to the left into the clothes display, Hal rolled to the right.

"Stop, Stop," the mall security yelled at nobody and began swinging back and forth looking for a target. In an instant, Hal had him down on the floor, handcuffed and disarmed. "Clear Colonel" he called.

People who hadn't run away slowly began popping up like wide-eyed chipmunks behind the perfume counters and clothes racks.

"Holy Shit," someone murmured.

I heard Stephanie screaming, "Sam, Sam, where's my baby?"

Rangeman Cal, two Lawrenceville sheriff officers and another mall security had heard the gunshot and came with weapons drawn.

The first sheriff's officer quickly looked around. The handcuffed mall cop was on the ground, his gun clearly visible on the floor, Hal behind him, hands visible. The unconscious woman on the floor still had the conceal carry gun lying on her chest.

Cal was now holding onto to Stephanie who wept, "Where's my baby?"

The second sheriff's officer stepped over to the unconscious woman and took the gun and felt for a pulse. He then took the gun near the mall cop face down in front of Hal.

"Finally," the sales clerk hissed. "Somebody with brains has shown up." Several others acknowledged vocally.

"Hal," the sheriff acknowledged

"Sheriff," Hal answered.

With free guns secured, I could reveal myself. Sam and I had merged with the long dresses display about 20 feet away from the door. "Over here Stephanie," I called.

"SAM!" she squealed and rushed over and took the sleeping baby.

"He's asleep, he's fine," assured her.

The sheriff asked, "Who is going to explain what's happened?"

"I will. I'm Lt. Colonel Efrosyni Pappas Sherman, US Army. I was shopping with Mrs. Manoso and her friend when I was distracted by an armed snatch and grab at the game store. When I looked back, this lady was removing Sam from his stroller and ran off. Mrs. Manoso and friend were on the floor unconscious. I caught up with the kidnapper here."

The lady on the floor moaned again and began moving. Stephanie turned and walked back to the lady on the floor. I grabbed Steph's arm, "Stay back, she hasn't been fully searched or secured." I glanced at the second officer who realized his mistake. He came forward, searched her and then handcuffed her.

Stephanie gasped, "Joyce Barnhardt?"

"You know her?" asked the first officer.

"Unfortunately I do." Then looking at the officer who had just secured the kidnapper Stephanie continued, "Check her boots."

He reached down the boot and came back with a stiletto, a real one. He looked up at Stephanie.

"She's carried one since high school," Stephanie shrugged.

The sheriff looked at Hal, "What is your part in this?"

"We received an emergency call from this location."

"From?"

"Me, sir," I answered. "The security man was frozen with is weapon drawn. Before we go much further, there is a stun gun behind the rack there that should be secured. I kicked it from her hand."

The sheriff nodded to the other security man, "Check on it, Tom."

After some searching I heard, "It's here."

Stephanie turned and asked the sheriff "Is there a place I can change and clean my baby? My friend has the stroller and diapers back there,"

Stephanie tilted her head towards Mary Lou back around 50'.

The sheriff agreed and the sales clerk suggested the employee's lounge on the second floor.

"Can Efrosyni come with us?" Steph asked.

"No, there's still a question of who the baby belongs to and she's a subject," the sheriff answered referring to me.

"Suspect, like hell, you should be pinning a medal on her for stopping this bitch," hissed the sales clerk. Several other witnesses agreed.

Stephanie responded, "Then I want Cal with us."

The sheriff nodded, "Along with one of my officers." More sheriff officers had arrived including two outside the nearby doors preventing people from entering.

Off the little troop went just as the EMTs showed up for Joyce. I gingerly moved over to Hal.

"You are bleeding Colonel," Hal murmured.

"So are you," I returned. "Bullet fragment?"

"Or part of the door frame," he said quietly. "Quick draw McGraw's shot at Hal hit the door frame."

The deputy sheriff was getting witnesses' statements or contact information as the EMTs worked on Joyce. I glanced down the aisle leading into the mall and saw Ranger and Tank coming towards us. Hal nodded to the sheriff, "Baby's father."

The sheriff turned and directed Ranger to the second floor lounge.

Tank gave me the silent, "You OK?" look.

I nodded affirmative.

Tank walked up to the sheriff and said something. The sheriff's eyes widened a bit and then walked over to me, "Tank says you are carrying?"

"Yes sir," I answered but didn't show him the guns.

"You didn't declare to mall security," he admonished.

"I'm pretty sure the mall cop would have shot me again if I did. He seems to be lacking training."

"You are hit?" he asked in surprise.

We both are," tilting my head to Hal. "Bullet fragments from the door frame."

Tank came around back and looked. He chuckled. Both Hal and I growled.

As I began my statement I saw Bobby Brown slip in and head for the second floor lounge probably to check on the two women and baby. For certain there would have to be a well-baby check at a hospital. Hal and my asses would have to wait.

Before the still unconscious Joyce was hauled off with the EMT, the sheriff deputy secured her ankle to the gurney with handcuffs. He also said something to one of the EMTs who hopped out and came over to Hal and me.

"Buttocks," I whispered. If you have gauze pads, that's probably enough for me."

"Me too," Hal whispered.

The EMT looked down, "Yeah, you aren't hemorrhaging, pads will hold you."

As Hal and I slipped the pads down into our pants Hal said, "You know what's going to be the worst, don't you?"

"Sitting."

"No, no," he chuckled, Bobby having to suture up our asses. He's going to love it. The guys, especially Lester, will be giving us a hard time for weeks."

Hal and Cal were released to return to Rangeman. I winked, "Don't use up all the sutures."

When asked to prove my identity I explained my shoulder mounted weapon would be visible but not the back mounted. The sheriff's mouth tipped up, "You have permits?"

"Of course," I said and produced all.

I told my story again to the sheriff beginning with the game store robbery. I figured he was taping it along with another sheriff deputy standing hear by. No doubt Tank was using his cell to also tape.

"You disarmed the shooter at the game store?" he asked.

"Yes sir and kicked the 9mm into the shop to prevent it from being picked up by a passerby."

He shook his head in approval.

The sheriff cut me some slack. "Come in tomorrow for your written statement on both incidents. Right now get medical attention then go home with your husband."

I looked at him questioningly.

"I assume with your last name Sherman and Tank's concerned gaze, you two are married."

I had a small smile and turned back to Tank, "Concerned gaze?"

"You are damn right Colonel. You turn a simple trip to the mall exciting."

I scowled, "Remind me sir, did you tell me trouble finds Stephanie?"

Tank threw his arm around my shoulder, "Yeah, I did. Ready to go and let Bobby look at your…wound?"

I hesitated, "What vehicle?"

He tilted his head, "Mary Lou has been taken home, Ranger and family used my SUV. That leaves the Cayman back to Rangeman and then my truck home."

I moaned. I knew I was going to have trouble finding a comfortable position in the Cayman. I could crawl into the back of the truck and lay down, if necessary. I remained quiet.

After a very uncomfortable ride back to Rangeman, I knocked on Bobby's clinic door frame. "Been waiting for you. I've already stitched up Hal," he said as he showed me the bullet fragment he removed. "Let's see what you have. Time to determine if tactical pants stop fragments better than wool trousers."

Oh, my last pair or wool trousers were probably history. "So what are the jokes going around now?" I asked.

"It's Lester's day off so nothing too creative yet: Buttsy Twins."

I set my stone face, "They can do better."

Back at home I sat on the doughnut pillow on the couch. Tank was next to me.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "This wasn't the day you had planned."

"No," I said as I ate my carry out Chinese dinner from the cute little box. "Shopping is always a pain in the ….rear, today especially so."

"Joyce regained consciousness at the hospital, head contusion. She also has a broken nose and teeth."

"Just one contusion? She should have one on the front and back. I guess I ought to contact an attorney in case she sues me," I sighed.

"You are covered by Rangeman," he said assuredly.

"How?"

"You are a paid consultant and covered by us, since we've been married."

"Ahhh…." I began ready to point out conflict with the Army.

"The Army knows," he mumbled as he ate a piece of broccoli.

I gave him my stone stare. I was polishing that look today.

"George said he'd cover it," he shrugged.

Damn these men in my life! "Where you ever going to tell me?" I hissed.

"The need never came up until today. Anyway, you have about a dozen witness statements saying you were quite reserved in how you treated her. They sing your praises. Don't forget the security cameras at the doors. I'm sure Hector has already downloaded copies of everything including Joyce entering the restroom." he smiled.

I adjusted my position on the pillow; my butt hurt, but I know it was more from being pissed than having Bobby digging around back there. Suddenly the Tylenol wasn't working.

"So who is Joyce Barnhardt?" I asked.

"She went to school with Stephanie beginning in grade school. According to folks around town and Stephanie, she was mean and ugly as sin. After graduation she married money and got a body makeover, but didn't stop. Her extremely disagreeable nature resulted in quick divorces; the men couldn't wait to get rid of her, paying generously for a quick exit. With each new divorce she got more enhancements. No matter how she tried to be beautiful, she couldn't outdo Stephanie's natural beauty and charm. When Steph became a BEA, Joyce also became one by screwing Vinnie until he hired her. Joyce's apprehension rate was abysmal. After a few dings from the police for her aggressive nature Vinny reluctantly cut her free."

"So her dislike of Stephanie…"

"No, it's loathing…"

…she saw Stephanie in the mall with the baby and decided to kidnap the child to hurt Stephanie and then sell it for money?"

"And probably hurt Ranger. Joyce was frustrated Ranger never gave her a look, let alone a tumble. In fact he once told her if she made a move towards him he'd put a bullet in her brain. If I remember he had his Glock pressed between her eyes."

I stirred my rice a bit, "I suspect she was going to use the money for a new redo. Before I put my fist in her mouth, she was pretty scary looking."

No, she's always been scary looking. Even Lester has enough sense to stay the hell away from her. The sales clerk who was singing your praises, she used to work with Joyce at the make-up counter there. The clerk had no kind words for Joyce."

"So she'll be charged with kidnapping…second degree?" I threw out for discussion.

He began thinking out loud counting off the offenses with his fingers: "Since she didn't cross state lines, it's a state case, not federal. She didn't harm the baby, but threatened with the stunner. She alluded to wanting to sell the baby….which is hear-say." He paused, and then continued, "She didn't voluntarily give up the baby. She had a concealed handgun without permit….and the stiletto. I suspect the charges will initially be three charges of assault; Steph, Mary Lou and maybe Sam; first degree kidnapping; unlawful conceal carry."

"First degree kidnapping? That seems a stretch," I questioned.

He shrugged and sipped his beer.

I saw her in the ladies' room, looking around suspiciously. Maybe the mall security records will show more. If she was following, I missed that." …."

"You would have spotted her."

"Not necessarily, if she was a half ass BEA she'd have some knowledge of remaining hidden."

Tank responded, "Put it in your report tomorrow."

"I wonder if the game store robbery was coincidence or part of the kidnapping plot?" I mumbled as I dug for rice in the bottom of my box. I glanced at Tank who looked conflicted for a moment before his stone face slammed down.

"Oh damn," I muttered. He knew more than I did. He couldn't tell me until after I made my formal written statement.

"What is it with Trenton folks? Is everyone nuts?" I asked.

He shrugged, "There are some strange pockets around town. Stark Street is one, Burg is one, there are others."

"So what's your theory? Swamp gas?"

"Stark is drugs and poverty. Swamp gas is a good explanation for the Burg. I'm glad I moved away from its proximity," he said with conviction.

"You never lived in Chambersburg?"

"No, not in it proper, but close," he shook his head.

I'm glad your cats convinced you to move."

"Yeah and look at the good things that have happened to me," he smiled leaned over and kissed me.

"Well, if Steph and Carlos return here, I hope they find a home someplace out of town….like Colts Neck," I said.

"Too far."

I threw my head back and rolled it around.

"He put down his food box, "Neck?"

"To start."

He eyebrow rose, "To start?"

"Yeah, you owe me for today, but with my ass out of bounds, it may be just a massage, full body-no ass massage."

He smiled, "It's the least I can do for ruining your day off."


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

 **I was ready to tuck this story to bed, but I had to deal with Joyce. It is going to take help from the Merry Men to solve the problem. This takes several chapters, starts slow, be patient.**

 **Frosyni POV**

After church Tank and I went to Hayward, seventh floor for a late brunch with Ranger, Steph and Sam. They were leaving for Georgia in the early evening and wanted to talk.

When we exited Tank's truck Lester was by the door, waiting.

"One word, mister, one word about yesterday and I will personally tear your head off and shove it up your …,"

Tank growled, "Woman, it's Sunday."

Yes, he was right. I thought of the priest's homily this morning.

Lester didn't wait around to see me settle down; he beat a hasty retreat.

When we entered the elevator, I kissed Tank, "I'm sorry for jumping on Lester. Thank you for being a good man and keeping me in line."

"You can pound him into sand tomorrow," he chuckled. "Anyway, I'm curious as to what he came up with. Buttsy Twins is lame."

As the elevator door opened on seven, Ella was exiting the Manoso apartment. She rushed up to me, "Thank you." It was all she needed to say, she knew I wasn't one for long flowery speeches. I hugged her back but said nothing. Sam was safe, that's all that mattered.

Ranger held the door open, we entered before I received another Manoso hug. This time the hug wasn't in view of the entry hall cameras. Ranger's emotional display was something Tank hadn't seen in years. Ranger was usually very reserve; this was the healing Manoso. "Ric, I'll tolerate one pawing my wife once, but not twice," Tank grumbled but with a smile on his face.

Ranger stepped back and stared at him but then began to smile and both men chuckled, knocked shoulders, all was well.

My mind spun, why did Tank call Ranger, Ric? Was this something from long ago?

Stephanie was on the couch with Sam in her lap. Both were smiling. Stephanie's grin was warm and welcoming. Sam's was mouth open and toothless. If he hadn't been giggling I could have mistaken it for gas.

"Do you want to hold him?" she asked.

I shook my head, "Not without a poncho and body armor. I lost a pair of trousers and a blazer yesterday thanks to him," I laughed.

She looked contrite, "I'm sorry about that."

"No apologies, in fact I should be apologizing to you for not intercepting the problem sooner."

Ranger spoke, "Surveillance shows she came up from behind and hit quickly. It was timed to go with the gunfire from the shop."

I held up my hand, "I haven't written my statement, please I don't need the details now."

He nodded, "It wasn't your fault. You reacted quickly and without harm to Sam. None of us could have done any better."

"That doesn't mean I won't review for the future. It's the way we are wired Carlos."

He nodded.

Stephanie looked down at Sam and mumbled, "Too bad the mall cop didn't shoot the mean lady in the ass."

"My buttock agrees with you," I sighed. I wondered how Hal was doing. We should stop on the way home and say hello.

Tank spoke up, "Now that that's over, let's eat. I'm starving."

The mood suddenly lightened.

"Are you two mercurial with each other? Stephanie asked.

I stopped and thought a minute and looked at Tank. "Are we?"

"No, we are more like two guys, no long drawn out girly stuff. We say what we mean and move on; no secret agenda, no games," Tank replied.

"There are games…"I winked at him.

"You two don't argue?" Stephanie continued.

"No, we discuss, sometime with vigor, but we push through it quickly. Stephanie, I may be female but it doesn't mean I allow my hormones to run my mind or mouth. I was raised to think and speak clearly and concisely. Time wasted on arguing cuts down on our play time."

"Woman," Tank grumbled.

"Is that his version of "Babe?" she giggled.

I shook my head yes.

As we moved to the kitchen counter I immediately saw somebody miscounted because this wasn't a brunch for four, more like twelve.

Ranger spoke, "We both need a few more pounds."

I chuckled, "Just not in one day."

Ranger and I ended up with bagels, cream cheese and smoked salmon.

Steph shook her head, "You two even eat alike. Are your sure you aren't twins separated at birth?"

I thought of my twin brother who died before his first birthday. Would he have been like Carlos? I shook my head and dove into the capers and onions to dress my bagel.

Stephanie had a waffle and bacon, Tank had scrambled eggs, bacon and biscuits.

After we had our first course and were preparing to dig into the fresh fruit, Ranger looked at me, "We've delayed our decision on moving back here. We will return but need more time away."

"Actually I need more time," Stephanie said.

I nodded. Yesterday was very emotional for her.

Ranger continued, "I'm not back to where I want to be. Yesterday proved that, but I'm close. I found more peace and healing here than I have keeping myself away. Rangeman is a team; it was designed that way for efficiency and support. We will return. Our families are here; mine, Steph's, you two, and the rest of the core team.

"Frosyni, for years I've wanted to bring in a woman, but couldn't find one suitable. Stephanie has the instincts, something many of us lack. We are trained to think linear. She thinks more creatively, but she doesn't have the training or discipline to be in the field. She also has business sense and training; far more than Tank and I together.

When we move back, Steph will come to work for Rangeman in daily operations. She's not going out into the field; however she has agreed to take training as required by all employees. Frosyni, I'd like you to head up her training. I believe working with a woman will encourage her."

"You want the Ft. Dix Bitch to train her?" I asked incredulously.

"I believe you are more efficient," he lightly smiled. "You seem to be able to operate on both sides; you think and react like a man, but you also have the female side."

I glanced at Tank who was smirking, "Hold it mister," I warned.

I looked at Stephanie, "You agree to this?"

She smiled, "Bring it on."

Tank's eye brows shot up, "Whoa. Lester couldn't get her to train, Ram couldn't get her to train, nor could I. What's this enthusiasm?"

I nodded, "She'll do."

I looked back at Carlos, "I don't know when I'm leaving the Army. I still have time to get to twenty. Tank's a good motivator to pull the pin sooner rather than later. Also we want to start a family. I already know when I do leave there are going to be people who want me to work for them, none are in Trenton. Between now and then perhaps we can discuss how I can work for Rangeman but in a whole new area."

"What type of area?" He asked with shaded eyes.

I really debated about telling him more but decided now was not the time. "I've told you more about my work than anyone, outside of Pierre here. There are ….companies…. who will want me to work with them, but none are in this area. Rangeman might expand."

Stephanie had been distracted and stopped listening when I mentioned starting a family. "If you have a baby we'll need a nursery here at Rangeman."

Both guys groaned.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

Danger

Life settled down to something resembling normalcy after Steph, Ranger and Sam left returned to Georgia. Their return to Trenton wouldn't be for several months. Ranger was still receiving therapy and info said he was also instructing at Benning. Stephanie needed to return to her job. Together they were still working on the marriage; they wed under difficult circumstances and needed time together.

Burg residents were surprised to find themselves talking about Stephanie Plum once again. It had been a year and many moved on to new victims of Burg babble. Speculation centered on who fathered Stephanie's baby. Those few who saw, or thought they saw the child, said it was not Joe's. No doubt the mystery man seen at Macy's was the father. Nobody thought he was also her husband. After her brief marriage to Dickie Orr, nobody expected her to actually wed again, just sleep around.

But just as mystery man and Stephanie appeared, they were gone again. Helen Plum wasn't available to ask and Edith and Valerie remained tight lipped. Nobody asked Frank, not that he would tell.

Few thought Carlos Manoso was the father except those on Stark Street who knew Stephanie was Ranger's woman. Minds were fuzzy about when he was last seen in town. Also the rumors were 80% Carlos Manoso was dead and 20% he was alive. The dead percentage rose higher as the mystery man briefly seen in Macy's did not look like Ranger; he was "smaller, thinner, and older." Even Mary Lou, a usual fountain of information was near mute, "Did he look like Ranger?" was all she'd say.

Make-up and perfume sales at Macy's picked up for a while as gossipers came to hear firsthand what happened from the witness sales clerk. Fear of more gun fire in the mall was second to getting the latest scoop.

Though Joyce was a Burg girl, the gossip wasn't kind. Apparently it is acceptable to bully school mates, jump everything male or female in Trenton and surrounding townships, make divorce an acceptable employment option, but to endanger a child, a baby, was considered the lowest depravity. Now she was accused of actually planning an armed robbery inside Quaker Bridge mall where many could have been injured. Lips were galloping.

Still with all the charges against her, Joyce was granted bail. Rumors were she had once spent a weekend with judge who granted her bail. Lula remained in jail but the white woman with far more charges was released. Even Frosyni, Lula's intended target, was upset at the prejudice.

Vinnie refused to carry Joyce's bond, as did Lee Sebring. Finally a bondsman in Newark took a chance and Joyce was let out on a $500,000 bail. But there are worse places than jail as she found out. Each day she expected to be killed by Ranger's ghost or one of his Rangemen, Vinnie, old lovers, former husbands, old bond apprehensions, enemies and even Frosyni, Tank's wife.

Mentally Joyce was degrading. Since childhood she used bullying to hide her personal loathing. No amount of body reconstruction could totally erase her low self-image. Now that her nose wasn't perfect, her teeth broken she was falling back now with a dangerous edge tempered with fear.

As expected she contacted lawyers to sue for money for facial reconstruction. With charges ranging from aiding and abetting a robbery, kidnapping, carrying a stun gun and a non-licensed weapon, only the lowest bottom feeding attorney would take the case; Dickie Orr. Tank was right, Rangeman's high profile and high price attorneys represented Frosyni. Even if Joyce prevailed, it would be years before she saw any money. Mentally she didn't have the time.

Instead of rebuilding her life, Joyce set out for revenge. First were the two game store robbers. They identified her as the one who hired them. They had to go. Within a week both were found dead, shot to death in their bedrooms along with their girlfriends. Nobody heard a sound though shards from plastic water bottles were found at each shooting; homemade silencers. If it had occurred on Stark Street, the police might have ignored it. But it occurred closer to the State Capital building in down town Trenton. The news quickly made the connection to the mall shooting.

Joyce knew she was wanted for questioning and had to keep hidden. It would be harder to kill Tank's wife and Stephanie. Out of desperation, she went to the barrio in Newark to find a gunman. Her BEA experience got her a meet in a doughnut shop with " _someone who knew someone_."

The dark Latino man, 30's, slide into the plastic sided booth with a cup of coffee and two crullers. He looked at the red head with the enhanced bust, tight figure, slightly misshaped nose as a possible entertainment after the business was complete. She wasn't too bad looking.

"I'm told you have a problem that needs fixing," he mumbled. She didn't seem like the type to speak Spanish.

Joyce hated to speak with her missing teeth on the left side so kept her hand up against that side of her mouth. "This bitch," she sneered as she pushed across a picture of Frosyni.

"What she do?"

"This." Joyce pointed to her nose and mouth.

"That's it? Hell, get a nose job and implants or dentures. Not worth anything more," he said pushing back the photo.

"I'll pay you $5,000 to mess her up bad, real bad. Don't kill her, I want to do that and cut into pieces and mailed back to her husband."

"Lover's quarrel?"

"None of your damn business." Joyce snarled.

The guy shrugged, "Basic fee for a quick hit is $5,000. If you want her messed up but still alive, it's $10,000."

"What the hell?" Joyce said loudly.

Shaking his head to quiet her back down, Silvio whispered. "Quick hit doesn't require kidnapping and transport plus location for the messing up. Then I assume you want her delivered someplace you can finish and dispose of her."

"Fine, I'll finish her and chop her into kindling."

Silvio's stomach turned. He had come to dissuade her from brining her problem to Newark by quoting ten times what the newer gangs would charge.

"I want her gone as soon as possible." Joyce seethed.

"I can't guarantee time. Give me the particulars."

"Her name is Efrosyni Sherman….Pappas Sherman. She's in the Army at Dix but lives off base. She's married to Tank Sherman of Rangeman. Ever heard of him?"

Silvio trembled inside. This was one messed up bitch. "Rangeman, yeah. Tank is now in charge," Silvio answered in a low voice.

"After you do her, I want this one done too," Joyce sneered pulling out a picture of Stephanie. "Her name is Stephanie Plum, BEA out of Trenton, but she's disappeared. I want her found and killed."

The man looked down. He knew about the Bombastic Bounty Hunter and girl friend of Ric Manoso.

"Straight hit is still $5,000 but now you have travel expenses. What is your upper limit? It takes time to find and go to her plus the job. It may take weeks. I'm not putting that much effort into a $5,000 hit; its $5,000 per week after the first week. How much is she worth to you?"

"I'll give you three weeks, $15,000, no more."

"Give me your contact number, I'll be in touch." After receiving the number Silvio sipped his coffee one last time, rose and threw the rest into the trash and walked out. All thoughts of screwing the redhead were gone. His stomach was rolling.

As he slid into his Lexus he muttered, "Shit, Ric and Pierre's women."

It had been over 15 years since Ric and Pierre ran the streets with Silvio. Pierre got crazy after his family died, would have ended up dead if Ric hadn't settled him down. Pierre eventually wanted out of the gang, got jumped out and started studying hard in school, got into sports, went on to college. Silvio respected him, even envied him. The arana, spider, had the guts to get out.

Ric stayed in the gang, did his stint in juvie taking sole blame for stealing the car instead of ratting out Silvio. He owned his friend big time. Even though Ric was said to be dead, there was no way Silvio was going to let his woman or Pierre's woman be killed by this crazy bitch. Hell, he should follow her and kill her himself, except he hadn't killed in years and wasn't going back into it.

00000

"Detective Martin," the voice answered distractedly.

Mario, its Silvio Barela, don't hang up, please. We've got to talk, open.

Detective Martin was more than a little surprised. Open meant Silvio had information he needed to pass on. "Paddle Boat House. 2:30."

Silvio knew the place; it was outside Newark in West Orange. A little bit of nature might be nice change.

Silvio was sitting on a bench when he saw Mario approach. Silvio stood and walked perpendicular to Mario. Mario would turn and catch up to him after each had purchased water from a food cart. The cart operator was an undercover cop who was keeping watch for tails.

"So what gets you out of the barrio, Sil?" Mario was dressed casually, trousers, polo shirt with a light weight jacket hiding his weapon. Silvio Barela was more a knife man but kept a CC weapon on his ankle as backup.

"Rumors floating someone is looking to make trouble in Trenton."

"Not our territory," the detective replied.

"No but it ties back to here. Not that I'm active in that anymore, I had to investigate, don't need that shit dragged up here."

"Yeah, yeah and you go to mass every day and confession twice a week," the detective said.

"Times are changing, flags are changing. I'd like to live to have grandchildren."

The detective realized his old gang banger buddy was finally growing up. "Yeah. So what's the stink now?"

"Bitch out of Trenton has a stick up her ass and wants two take outs."

"And…."

"The targets are Ric Manoso's and Pierre Sherman's women. I still owe Ric, I can't let this bitch hurt them."

Mario thought a minute, "Getting both will be a trick. I understand Ric's woman lives out of state and Pierre's wife has deep security."

"Wife?"

"Yeah, he's married."

"Not that fat ho he was hanging with…"

Chuckling, Mario answered, "No, his wife is an officer in the Army."

"The bitch wants her dead and dismembered."

"Shit," Mario said. Death was bad enough but desecration was beyond understanding.

"Yeah, I've got me a real sick-o on the line," Silvio said shaking his head.

"By chance is you "client" a busty red head?"

"Yeah."

"She kidnapped Ric's child. Tank's wife stopped her with a right cross to the face."

That explains the missing teeth, but hardly worth death and dismemberment." Silvio was wondering what the target did in the Army, hand to hand combat?

"Also, your client set up an armed diversion, didn't go so well. Now the two involved in the diversion are dead. Trenton is looking for her."

Silvio's tender stomach was back. "I hear Ric died."

"Word is he was captured and killed in the Middle East. His woman left Trenton for a new life elsewhere with the child. She was in town to see family."

"Mario, how long before we can end this?"

"We?" The detective asked.

"I owe Ric, no matter if he's dead or alive. This whole thing is just bad."


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

 **Taking cover**

"Yo," Tank answered his intercom.

Sir, there's a Detective Mario Martin, Newark, on line one.

Tank sat back; there was a name from the past. He knew Mario had become a Newark cop but lost track of him.

"Detective Martin," Tank boomed with his bass voice. "Long time."

" _Araña ¿Cómo te va?"_

Tank remembered being long and lanky earning the nickname Spider before he became Tank. Mario Martin was part of the gang of hormonal miscreants in Newark years ago that found their way into drugs, fights, and worse. It was a bad time in his life but played a big part in what he was today. "What makes you call?"

The Quaker Bridge incident several weeks ago; Barnhardt was granted parole thanks to the lovely liberal court system."

"Yeah and she's wanted for four murders down here now," Tank responded. He already had extra security on Frosyni as she drove to and from the base.

Detective Martin continued, "She's trolling for a hitman for your wife and Ric's woman."

Tank froze. Frosyni had accused him of over reacting; now he was justified. "Continue."

"This info comes via our old friend Silvio Barela. He says he's been hired but he doesn't do that shit anymore. Plus he has a code, he won't touch your or Ric's property."

"Is he willing to cooperate?"

"Yeah, he's willing to wear a wire during a sting and entice her into a meet and greet NPD. Trenton PD is coming on board as well."

Tank controlled his breathing. He wanted Barnhardt dead.

As if channeling Tank's thoughts Detective Martin continued, "Tank, you have too much at stake now. Rangeman. You can't get involved. I'm calling to ask you if you can get your wife away for a while. Also I understand Ms. Plum is in Georgia."

"As for Frosyni, either I or the Army will lock her down. Ms. Plum's whereabouts is nebulous but I'll look into it." Tank noted he used Ms. Plum not Mrs. Manoso. That little error may give Ranger and Stephanie time to plan a move to a safe location.

"Don't delay. Silvio says the woman is bat shit crazy," Detective Martin added.

Sounds like she's gone off the deep end, Tank thought as he hung up. First he needed to protect his wife. He had options: have her in a safe house with Rangeman guards or get the Army involved. He didn't want to interfere with her career so needed to move fast. He might have to stretch the truth a bit.

"Lester and Ram in here," Tank ordered the phone.

"Boss," Lester said as he entered with Ram.

There's a credible threat on Frosyni as a result of Quaker Bridge incident. I need her in a safe house within the hour.

"Barnhardt?" Lester asked.

Tank nodded, "Yeah. For once the newspapers are right, the four killed downtown were probably on her. She's gone to professionals for Stephnie and Frosyni."

"How the hell did she get out in the first place when Lula is still stuck inside?" Ram asked with more than a little anger.

That stuck in Tank's craw as well. He pushed it aside, for now. "Threat comes from Newark PD and taken as credible. They are setting up a sting and take her down but will need time. In mean time we need Fro invisible."

"What about the shooter?" Lester asked.

"The one she hired went straight to the police. We can't be sure she hasn't hired someone else."

"When do we intercept?" Ram asked.

"Right now. I've cleared your entrance to the base. MPs will deliver her to you at the base's ball field. Take her to Cummings Street. Ella is running over food and clothing as we speak. Don't elaborate with the military, I've been creative with the facts."

"Frosyni's going to be pissed," Lester said shaking his head.

"Yes, but she'll follow orders. Just in case, wear protection," Tank said while shaking his head. Yeah, she'll be pissed.

When Ram and Lester left, Tank's second task was to secure Stephanie. At first he and Ranger discussed sending Stephanie and Sam to Atlanta but decided since the cop in Newark knew Stephanie was in Georgia, Rangeman Miami's safe house would be better. Ranger would remain in Georgia as a decoy.

Frosyni was deep into her work when the base commander and 2 MPS stood before her. "Colonel, secure power down immediately including your cell phone and go with the MPs. There is a credible threat on you and your husband."

"Yes, sir," she answered and immediately began sending all info to a very secure server. All papers and the phone were collected, put into a secure pouch and taken to a secure safe. She returned to her desk, securely logged out, then stood, "I'm ready."

Now she could let her mind begin to figure out what was going on. Her and Tank; no doubt Barnhardt but why include Tank?

She was whisked to the waiting MP's SUV and driven to the base's baseball field. "Ma'am, your next transport is here," the MP said as he opened the door. She scooted out to see Ram holding open a Rangeman SUV door, "Colonel, please."

As Lester drove from the base into a rural part of Hamilton Township, he explained, "Barnhardt has contracts out on you and Steph."

"What about Tank?"

"That was a little white lie to keep the Army from sending you to Norway," Ram chuckled.

Frosyni's mind spun, "The killings downtown were hers."

"Apparently. Now she's coming for you. You and Steph will be invisible. Hopefully this will all be over in a day or two."

"What about Tank?"

"He's staying at Hayward. Newark police were the ones who notified him. She hired a shooter up there."

"I assume Trenton is investigating the 4 downtown, is Newark also involved?"

"Police are more reactionary, they deal with problems after they occur, they don't have the manpower to intercede beforehand." Lester continued. Tank's doing what he considers prudent to keep an asset alive,"

"Asset?" She asked with more than a tinge of anger.

"Yes ma'am," Lester responded. "Sounds better than "wifey."

Frosyni growled.

Lester laughed, "I'm glad I could lighten the mood."

The safe house sat on several acres of land. The front gate opened as Lester pressed the fob. First glance the house didn't look that much different than others, but Frosyni's trained eye noticed the motion detectors beginning at the front gate and continuing around the perimeter, extra thick glass, reinforced doors on a semi-modern style home. It was hard to categorize. The landscpaping was kept low. The remaining snow had no foot or animal prints. They drove into the garage, closed the door and another opened in front of them. They moved forward. They waited until the first door closed and all security control board lights were green before exiting the car. Frosyni was not allowed into the house until it had been cleared by Lester and Ram.

"You need a tour, Lester began. A central hall closet door was opened, "Safe room behind the back wall, flip the light switch three times to open."

Auxillary powered? She asked.

"Yes ma'am, mega batteries. There's a generator if needed." Lester said.

"Exit tunnel?"

Lester smiled, "Not in this model home. This isn't the ultra-high security model."

"I feel slighted," Frosyni said. "I would have though "wifey" rated top line protection."

Ram opened a door to what would normally be a master bedroom. "Work out area, we don't want you or us to get flabby during out confinement." The room had a treadmill and weights. The bathroom to the side allowed for showers after.

"Armory?" She asked.

"Here," he said opening a clothes closet whose back wall opened. A room inside held handguns, shotguns, rifles including several M2010s. There were several RPGs. Ammunition filled two drawers. Frosyni checked the ammunition brands, "Someone knows their weapons."

"These are my choices, ma'am," Ram said.

Frosyni remembered Ram was been with Delta Force at Ft. Bragg. "I concur with your selections."

There were also face masks for gas protection and four sets of body armor.

She backed out of the armory, "Communications and monitoring?"

"Geez, lady it's like you've done this before," Lester said.

"I have."

Before Ram closed the armory he handed her a Kimber 9mm, filled clip, and holster. "You'll feel better armed."

She blew air out, "Yeah."

Lester pointed up to a very well concealed camera, "First of many cameras, monitors fold down from under shelves in kitchen and living room."

He led her through the house pointing out other cameras. Opening a cabinet he pulled out a cell phone from among many. "Burner in case wifey wants to talk to hubby."

She still wasn't in a good mood and replied, "Don't push it Lester."

Ram just shook his head at Lester's humor. The Colonel would flatten him if he continued. "Colonel, do you want to change before dinner? Ella brought clothes for all of us."

"No, but I will wash up. I need to splash water on my face to clear my mind."

As she examined her bedroom and bath, she touched the walls and looked carefully at the bedspread and the closed window shades. On her way to the kitchen she examined all the rooms, windows and felt the walls.

Lester watched, "Something wrong, Colonel?" he asked.

"How old is the house?" she asked.

"Rebuilt two years ago after fire and homeowner collected the insurance and ran."

"How fireproof and blast proof is the house?"

"You don't miss much."

"I've never seen anti-frag cloth made into blinds and bed coverings. This is more advanced construction than Hayward."

"Hayward is several years old. There's always new technology."

"But still no tunnel," she chided.

"Pros and cons to their use."

She finally let loose and sighed, "You are the experts, not me. What's for dinner?"

"Looks like Ella's lasagna tonight," Ram said pulling out a large casserole from the refrigerator.

"I'll make a salad," Frosyni said as she scoured the pantry for salad extras. Smiling she pulled out a large jar of Kalamata olives. "Soul food, bless Ella."

After the three had eaten and cleaned up Frosyni said, "I assume 2 hour shifts."

The two men looked at her like she has spoken Swahili.

"Come on guys, I'm not a helpless princess. I can take a turn and give everyone 4 hours down time."

Frosyni finished her second sleep at 0800. She stumbled into the exercise room where she found Ram in the middle of lifting weights. Without saying a word, she removed her sleep shirt to reveal a sports bra and boy cut pants. There was no way she was sleeping without underwear while in security confinement. Fast exits don't allow for wardrobe changes.

She began with a series of stretches, many of which made Ram flinch.

"You a contortionist?" He asked.

She chuckled, "No, I grew so fast as a child I was often in pain. The doctor sent me to a physical therapist who showed me how to stretch carefully. Then I did ballet for about 30 seconds before I went into martial arts. The two had still more stretches. Throw in yoga and pilates, I stay pretty limber."

With that she dropped flat onto the floor and ticked up 100 sits ups, flipped over and did 100 pushups. Standing she did 100 lunges per leg. Ram now understood how she maintained her muscular physique. He tossed her a large water bottle, "Want the weights?"

"No, to keep from going crazy I'll spread the work-out over the day. Later for weights and treadmill."

Ram shook his head, "She's no Stephanie."

After showering and changing into yoga pants and Rangeman polo shirt, she found her way to the kitchen where bacon was in the air, "Oh yum, please tell me you saved some."

"We also have French toast and fruit. You want coffee?

"You cook, Ram?"

"When my mother died it was Dad and my brother. We took turns cooking. At first it was pretty bad," he laughed. "Eventually we got good and thought about opening a restaurant."

"You didn't."

"No, we couldn't decide what type, so we didn't bother."

"What got you into the Army?"

"I needed money to finish school."

"Did you finish?"

He shook his head, "No, after the Army and Delta, Agricultural Economics seemed trivial."

"Where did you go to school?"

"Iowa State."

"Good ag school. Any thoughts of finishing?" she asked.

"Not in Ag Econ, business maybe. I like my work. Maybe if Rangeman expands I could head up a new office," he said wistfully.

"Sounds like you are thinking about it. Don't let it get away from you, like the restaurant."

000

Silvio called the number given him by the woman. It has been several days since their meet. Newark and Trenton police had a take down in place at the original meeting site.

"We've got to talk, at the doughnut shop," he spoke into the phone.

"No, talk now. No more meets," she shot back.

Damn, thought Silvio, there goes the take down.

"Plum is out of town."

"I know, in Georgia," she replied.

Fuck, he didn't know that. "Could have saved me time if you had told me."

"I was testing you. First priority is the Army bitch. When you have her, mess her up and then call. I'll tell you where at that time."

"You don't care how I mess her up, do you?" Silvio chuckled. He was sick to his stomach asking this, he should win an acting award for his performance.

"I want her conscious so she understands and feels the hurt, that's all."

"All parts attached?"

There was a long pause before Joyce shot back, "What you want an ear like a bull fighter?"

"Souvenir," Silvio said.

"Take pictures you sick fuck," and she hung up.

Silvio hung up and turned to Mario, the Newark Detective, "She is crazy but smart. I hope we are smarter."


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

 **WARNING: Most of this chapter is M for sure. It's violent. You can skip almost to the end and still understand what happens.**

 **Show Time**

Mary Lou put the last grocery bags in the car trunk and shut it. When she turned a street person was standing too close, "Money for Jesus." It was hard to tell if it was a man or woman. The face was dirty, clothes ratty, oversized and smelly.

"Sorry, I used it all to buy groceries," Mary Lou said as she tried move away.

The homeless person grabbed her and forcefully stuck something metallic in her rubs. "Get in the car and drive. If not, Lenny will be cooking for your boys from now on, Mary Lou."

The voice was familiar but sloppy like the person was on drugs or drinking. Mary Lou examined the face in her rear mirror. It was Joyce Barnhardt.

"Where are we going Joyce?" Mary Lou tried to ask calmly.

"Just shut up and drive bitch," was her reply.

It took Mary Lou's husband three hours to realize his wife was long overdue. He called her cell phone but it went to voice mail. After calling several of her friends and even local hospitals, he called the police and the grocery store. A replay of the parking lot security cam clearly showed the Mary Lou driving away with what appeared as a homeless person in the back seat.

000

"Yo," Tank replied to his phone. He was returning from the gym.

"Sir, police band has a missing person's report, Mary Lou Stankovic, apparently kidnapped from grocery store parking lot, 4 hours ago."

"Got it."

Tank called Hector…. _Mary Lou Standovic ha sido secuestrada de tienda de abarrotes hace 4 horas. Se puede obtener el video?"_ (Mary Lou Standovic has been kidnapped from the grocery store 4 hours ago. Can you get the video?)

Si.

 _¿Puede usted seguir el coche?_ (Can you track the car?)

 _Puedo seguir para como hay cámaras._ (I can track for as long as there are cameras.)

Tank's next call was to Mario Martin in Newark telling him of the kidnapping and suspecting is it Joyce Barnhardt.

It took Hector hours but he was able to track Mary Lou's car to the agricultural areas east of Trenton where homes sat on hundred to thousand acre farms. While the camera didn't definitely identify Joyce Barnhardt as the abductor, everyone was working on that assumption. She was not at her address on the bail form and her car was found not far from the grocery store. For a smart woman, that was an error.

Conformation came the hours later when Silvio received a brief call, "I've got a hostage named Mary Lou. The longer you delay the more she'll get messed up."

Silvio called Mario Martin, "She has a hostage named Mary Lou."

"We suspected. Mary Lou Standovic from Trenton, friend of the Plum woman."

So far Joyce was holding all the cards. Mario called Tank to confer. Tank knew Frosyni was excellent in intelligence and operations; time to get her input. He called Lester, "Open phone."

 **Frosyni POV**

We sat and listened in horror at what was happening. I thought for a minute, "We give her what she wants, me."

"Not going to happen." Tank said.

"It's the only way."

"No."

"I'll think of something else," I said and hung up.

After disconnecting I turned to Ram, "Call Hector. Let me talk to him."

 _"_ _Tienes el número de teléfono y el nombre del hombre que contactó a Joyce?_ I asked Hector. (Do you have the phone number and name of the man Joyce contacted?)

 _"_ _Si, Silvio Barela, cell number…._

 _"_ _Gracias Hector."_

 _"_ _Ten cuidado,"_ (Be careful.) Hector understood.

Using a burner phone from the supplies at the safe house, I called the number.

"My name is Efrosyni Pappas Sherman, you are looking for me. Are you alone?"

"Yes," Silvio said.

"No cops listening in?" I asked.

"No."

"We are going to solve the problem. What are your instructions from Joyce?"

Silvio sighed, "Kidnap you, mess you up bad but keep you alive. Then deliver you to her."

"Are you planning on doing it?"

"Hell no, I owe Ric and Pierre big time. I'm trying to figure out how to get out of this without losing my life," he blew out.

"We will work with you, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't mess me up first."

Silvio listened to how coolly this woman spoke. She didn't see phased by the threat. "What do you have in mind?"

I need to be with you when you call Joyce, she'll need verification, probably a cell phone picture. We have a general idea where she is. It's rural, we don't know how far out."

"Whose we?" Silvio asked.

"Does it matter? You and I can't do this alone," I said calmly.

"Are they cops?"

"No, they are trained mercenaries who make your client look like a preschooler."

Silvio gasped. He was sinking deeper and deeper into the mire.

"What type of weapon do you carry?" I inquired.

"9mm."

"We meet. You mess me up and then take me to Joyce."

"I thought you said…"

"Distractions, Silivo, distractions. Oh Silvio, do not call Mario Martin or any other cop; the fewer who know, the better. I'll get back to you within three hours."

He didn't understand but she sounded like she knew what she was doing. He hoped so.

0000

 **The following is pretty raw, M rated for sure. Skip if you wish** **.**

"Where are there no microphones?" I whispered to Lester.

He thought a minute, bathroom especially if we turn on a radio," he answered.

I shook my head yes and we all went in. Ram turned on the radio and I turned on the shower. We huddled together outside the shower and I told them my plan.

"Is this going to work, Colonel?" Lester asked.

"Yes, but it depends how predictable Joyce is. Who knows now?"

"…and how good Hector is and this Silvio whom we've never met," he worried.

"Hector will do his job, that doesn't worry me. Silvio went to the cops instead of turning down the contract or fulfilling it. What need is a driver, who do you recommend?"

"Bobby."

Ram shook his head in approval.

"We need transport, larger SUV, non-Rangeman vehicle, no electronics including his cell, nothing traceable. We also need him to pick up a few things first. I'll make a list, you contact him Lester. I'll talk to Hector to see what he needs."

Escaping a monitored house is hard unless you have someone who can mask your escape and absence. Hector has been carefully recording our comings and goings around the house as well as the routine house noises. He'll mix the sights and sounds randomly and then loop it into the Rangeman monitors. In the mean time we'll leave, masked by Hector, and meet Bobby nearby in an untraceable vehicle.

As we emerged from the neighborhood landscape, Bobby looked at our two rifle cases and simply said, "I figured that's what this is about." We had a location east of Trenton we could use for our work. Silvio was waiting.

When we pulled up in front of the nondescript building I turned to Bobby, "You can go. The less you know the better," I said.

"No, I want to help," he quietly said.

I quickly explained the plan.

Bobby said, "You'll need me to supervise the makeup. Who knows better what a beat down and assault looks like?"

Once inside the building we went to work. "Lester, start darkening your hair, avoid your scalp. This stuff will wash out. Then use the makeup, cover as much of you as you can. Ram will help with coverage."

Working quickly, I had Bobby rip my clothes as if we had been fighting. Then I stripped naked allowing Bobby to apply the putty, colored Karo syrup, and coloring to mimic swollen tissue, blood and early bruising. Emphasis was placed on sexual areas. It didn't have to pass Hollywood standards just cell phone photo.

Silvio stood back and looked green, "This is really fucked up."

When complete I was "arranged" on a dirty mattress, bound but not gagged. I might have to moan.

At that moment Lester came in, "Oh shit," he murmured when he saw me. He was covered in darker theatrical makeup and had dark hair. His only clothing was a cup.

Taking Silvio's phone, Bobby took pictures. "Silvio, take your clothes off and wipe your groin and chest with this red stained rag."

Silivo blanched.

"It's got to look like you've sexually abused her and still carrying the evidence."

He did as he was told.

Bobby directed, "Now get down close and take some selfies, the more suggestive the better. We've got to convince Joyce."

"I can't do that," he objected. "I can't touch her."

I growled, "Damnit, just do it. You are saving three people's life; Mary Lou, Stephanie, and mine. Channel your bad side one more time."

This is just sick, real sick," Silvio said.

"Yeah," all of us agreed.

Bobby began adding putty and color to Lester to mimic my "injuries" while Silvio made the call, "I've got her."

"Let me see, take a picture, put yourself in the shot."

Everyone was surprised I had read Joyce's mind. Silvio forced himself to chuckle, "A selfie!"

He paused before sending the already taken photos.

"Looks like you had a good time. You finished playing with her?" Joyce sneered.

"Maybe." Silvio said.

"I want to talk to her, put the phone on speaker next to her so she can hear me," instructed Joyce.

Ram, Bobby and Lester froze so as not to make a sound.

Joyce's voice came over the phone, "Hey Godzilla, you fuck with me and I fuck with you. Silvio here has just warmed you up for me. Whaddya say about that?"

Silvio lowered the phone and with a low moaning voice slurring my words, "Ffffuck ooo bich."

Joyce laughed, "No dear, you've been fucked and now I'm going to chop you into pieces and mail you back to your Ape Man."

Joyce then said loudly, "She better be alive when you get her here."

Silvio replied, "Depends how far away you are."

Joyce gave the location.

As instructed Silvio gasped, "Hell why not make it Atlantic City? I thought you'd be in Newark. It's going to take time, an hour maybe more." Actually we were not far away.

"Drive fast."

"And get a ticket, no way." Silvio hung up.

Immediately Ram was getting Google Earth photos of the area to find shooting locations around Joyce's hideout. Silvio untied and helped me wipe off the fake blood. As I slipped on spare clothes, Bobby finished up Lester's transformation. He added blood, bruises, stuffed but torn bra for boobs, and body armor; when complete Lester put on my old, torn and "bloody" clothing.

We stood back and looked, "We can't get you too close to her, but from a distance, you'll do," Bobby said.

Before they left, I asked Silvio for his weapon. He reached down to his ankle and pulled out a 9 mm.

"No, not large enough," I said. Reaching into my bag I pulled a big Glock. Ejecting the clip I replaced the first two bullets. "The first two are low velocity. Use them to shoot Lester in the abdomen. You'll be within 4 feet, so accuracy shouldn't be a problem. He has extra armor on the abdomen and lower chest. Being a low load, the recoil won't be excessive. If you need to fight, the remaining 13 are full loads.

Lester added, "Please aim, don't hit too low. I still want a family."

Silvio, Ram, Lester and I got into SUV. Bobby slipped into Silvio's Lexus and went to a designated area to wait. When we were a mile away from Joyce's, Silvio stopped letting Ram and me exit the vehicle. We headed for the woods.

Silvio and Lester went over their plan for when they get to Joyce. Lester reminded Silvio his gun's first two cartridges were near blanks but still could do damage.

Silvio called in, "I'm about 7 miles out in a silver SUV."

"Why?" Joyce demanded.

"Hell, she's a mess. I put her clothes back on her, but she'd bloody the car. Anyway, she's tall, I needed room for her." Silvio said forcibly.

"OK, keep coming. When you get to the front gate, come through, stop immediately and turn away from the camera. Open all the doors I want to make sure there are only two of you."

"Fine, you want me to jack it up so you can check underneath?"

"Ass."

Silvio waited giving Ram and me time to set up and unpack the M2010 sniper rifles and scopes. We were around 800 yards from the house, well within the accuracy range of the .300 Win Mag ammunition and well within the comfort range for snipers.

I checked Ram's location, I approved. Using the VOX headset, I checked in with Ram. "Set."

He replied, "Set…..ML's car in trees."

I whispered, "Camera on front gate, we'll take it when we leave.

Roger.

Lester was also listening, "Roger camera."

Lester had transferred to the back of the SUV and Silvio looped rope around him but did not tie the ends. Lester held the ends.

Silvio started the SUV and headed down the road; show time.

To avoid leaving finger prints on the gate, Silvio pulled his jacked cuffs down when he opened the gate. He drove through and turned to the right, stopped and got out opening all four doors and the rear door giving the camera a view of the interior. In the back, laying on "her" side was the victim, trussed up. He shut the doors and drove towards the house turning slightly towards it as he approached the house.

House was a generous term. It was more like a migrant worker shack; made of wood, single story with a porch across the front. The paint was mostly peeled from the siding. A propane tank stood next to the house and an electric drop entered the house. An electric cord rang to the front gate along the ground. Silvio was reminded of a slum home in Newark.

Joyce came out the front door, half carrying a drugged Mary Lou in her left arm, a .45 cal in her right hand.

"OK, get her out," Joyce demanded as she half push half let fall Mary Lou into a chair and held her up.

"I'm not clear of Mary Lou, are you?" I asked Ram"

"Negative."

"Stay on target, wait to clear, fire when clear."

"Roger."

Silvio muttered to Lester, "Kidnapper just outside the door, gun pointing to seated victim who appears drugged."

Silvio carefully began the charade. He walked around the back and dragged his bound victim out and set "her" on her feet. "Stand up bitch or so help me I'll drag you by your hair," he swore loudly so Joyce could hear.

The fake me, Lester, appeared semi-conscious, head down, needing help to stand.

Before they cleared the SUVs rear corner and not yet in direct line with Joyce, Lester pushed Silvio away and "apparently" kicked him in the privates. Silvio infuriated drew his gun and sent two bullets into his captive. Even though non-lethal loads, they knocked Lester back.

"NO." Joyce yelled forgetting about Mary Lou who slumped to the ground. Joyce took only one step before she died. The rifle reports sounded like one as both snipers fired near simultaneously.

Immediately the snipers began repacking their rifles and scopes to move to the rendezvous spot. Lester instantly jumped up, untangled himself from the ropes and ran into the house. Silvio picked up Mary Lou and carried her away from the house but in sight of eventual emergency vehicles.

Inside Lester found the kitchen was next to the front door. Perfect. Pouring oil into a frying pan, he placed it on the stove and turned the flame to high. Taking the dry dish clothes, he ignited them from the stove's fame and set the curtains papers on the table and moved to the living room curtains and tossed the nearly consumed towels on the dirty oily sofa. He found a full bottle of whiskey on the counter broke it and allowed the flames to roll across the liquid on the counter and floor. He kicked over a trash bin, scattering paper and aerosol can in the flame's bath.

Eventually the oil in the frying pan would reach flash point further adding to the conflagration. In time the whole kitchen would be ablaze and spread to the rest of the old dry house.

Lester spotted a laptop used to monitor the front gate camera by the table next to the front door. He grabbed it and the cord. Stepping over what was left of Joyce Barnhardt, he felt her pocket, found and took her cell phone.

Silvio had the SUV turned towards the gate and the door open for Lester. When they reached the front gate, Lester stood on the open gate and pulled the camera off a post and then shut the gate careful not to leave smudges or finger prints.

Silvio drove less than a mile, stopped, opened the SUVs side doors and Ram and I dove in; shut the doors and all left.

Taking an alternate route from which we came, we stopped beside Silvio's Lexus. Bobby took over driving the SUV back to the safe house. Silvio left the borrowed Glock in the SUV, got into his Lexus and drove back toward Newark. We were long gone before the firetrucks rushed to the now totally engulfed burning house.

Two men in the trees put down their high power binoculars. "Very efficient."

"Yeah," the other uttered.

Getting back into the safe house required another call to Hector. Under the cover of night Lester and I stripped down to our birthday suits leaving the Karo syrup sticky clothes with Bobby. All three, Ram, Lester and I, returned to the house and Lester and I showered. The makeup and syrup washed off easily but Lester's hair wasn't lightening as fast as we hoped. We tried dish soap and laundry soap in addition to the body soap and shampoo.

The only option was to shave Lester bald. Fortunately the color didn't stain his scalp. We looked carefully at his chest, legs and arms and found traces of makeup in his blond hairs. It too wasn't washing out; at least that's what we told Lester.

"Ah, Lester, we need to shave more," Ram said.

"How much more?" He squeaked.

"Wherever you put the dark make up."

It was near midnight when Tank called the safe house. Lester answered and had his story prepared.

"Get me away from your crazy wife, get me out of here!" Lester screamed.

"What has happened?"

"I told her some of the names I came up with for her and Hal; I was just being funny."

Tank sighed, "What did she do?"

"She and Ram tied me up and shaved my head. Damn I'm as bald as you."

"Is that all?"

"Isn't that enough! Am I going to have to wax my head like you? What if my hair never grows back?"

"I don't wax my head," Tank growled. "Let me talk to her."

I came on the line sounding sleepy, "Hi love."

"Did you really shave Lester?"

"From head to toe. He was being a real ass, worse than usual. Ram and I had it. Do you know how long it takes to completely shave a screaming Lester? Hours."

"You shaved his whole body?"

I giggled, "The ultimate manscape. Well, Ram did _that_ part. Bobby will probably need to give him something for the, ah rash, later."

Lester groaned loudly in the background. It was not an act.

Suddenly I got serious, "How is the search going?"

"You can come home now. It's over." He sounded tired.

"Over? What about Mary Lou?" I had considered being more inquisitive but it would have sounded false from me.

"Joyce is dead, Mary Lou is in the hospital," Tank spoke quietly.

I groaned, "How bad?"

"Drugged and slapped around, she'll be fine….in time."

"Thank heavens. Fill me in when I get home." I wasn't sure if he suspected I was involved.

"Put Lester in front of the camera, I want to see your work."

"How much of it?"

"Just his head," he warned.

I was dressed in my night shirt and hair disarrayed; Ram in his boxer shorts grabbed Lester and marched him into full view of the camera.

Tank chuckled.

0000

 **OK gruesome part over.**

When Tank called Ranger to give him the news, Ranger simply said, "Efficient. Have you told her you watched?" Ranger asked.

"No and I probably won't. I thought that was her being gut shot until I saw the double tap on Joyce but only one somewhat lengthy rifle report. I don't know how far she and Ram were out."

"Good thought to bug Silvio's phone."

"He should have gone into acting. He held is own with Joyce and Frosyni."

"The police investigating?"

"For about 10 minutes. It occurred in a depressed rural area where home fires and deaths are not unusual. Mario Martin had a talk with the part time coroner, told him about the 4 new murder charges. Suddenly the two gunshot wounds; one to the heart and one to the head were forgotten. Death was ruled asphyxiation and massive burns. House burned to the ground, ruled a kitchen fire. Her weapon was found nearby and ballistics positively tied it to the Trenton murders. Nobody at TPD wanted to investigate further. "

"Is Mary Lou OK?"

"Yeah, Ketamine. She remembers the house and Joyce, not the end **."**

"Did they really shave Lester?"

Laughing Tank replied, "Head to toe. I suspect the hair color didn't come out. As for the rest of him, it was probably revenge."

"I'll be with Steph and Sam for a few days enjoying the beach."

"Roger."

" …and Tank, thank you for marrying her."

000

Next morning when Tank walked in from the garage into his home, Frosyni was cooking breakfast. Without turning she asked, "Enjoy the show?"


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

 **I'm trying to put this story to bed, thus the quick posts. Just this and one more chapter. Those who have asked for more, maybe in the future. I have other stories I need to form up. Thank you for following this story!**

 **Frosyni POV**

 **New mission**

Almost immediately after Joyce's death, the Army assigned me to Ft. Huachuca in Arizona for three months. Apparently they wanted to whole Barnhardt affair to settle down as well. Ft. Huachuca isn't the end of the world. Tucson and Phoenix airports weren't that far away for visits from a love sick husband. We visited Tombstone, Arizona site of the famous Shoot Out at the OK Corral and enjoyed our own action later that night. Bisbee down the road was a quaint mining town with a giant hole in the middle of town, the Copper Queen mine. The galleries and museums were fun to explore plus we got our cardios in running up and down the many concrete steps. Built on hillsides, the sidewalks are often long stairways.

When I returned back to Dix my weight was up where I wanted it with extra muscle tipping the scale upward. On my last weigh-in Bobby quietly said I was healthy enough to contemplate pregnancy. I still had another two months on the birth control shot so didn't need to panic, yet.

Homecoming wasn't long as I had a 6 month job back in Europe and the Middle East. Tank and I were accumulating travel miles by the score.

"Where to next, Romeo?" Lester kidded one afternoon and he and Bobby passed Tank in the Rangeman underground garage.

"Rome," Tank growled.

"Think you'll have time to see the Trevi Fountain?" Les kidded.

"I doubt it," Bobby chuckled as they continued walking away.

I had been in Israel for about three months when I began bouts of nausea. Many of my favorite foods turned against me. I was in the cafeteria sipping ginger tea when an Israeli Air Force medic sat down next to me.

"Shalom, Colonel, mind if I sit with you?"

I knew him and welcomed him.

"Colonel, I'm going to be out of line, but are you feeling ill?"

I sighed, "What gave it away?"

"You are usually energized in the morning, lately you have been dragging, and you have dark circles under your eyes."

I responded, "I'm not sleeping well. The mission is complicated." That wasn't exactly true, I was up and down all night throwing up. I don't sleep well on the bathroom floor. I figure I'm fighting food poisoning. Please not some weird amoeba in my gut!

The medic reached over and smelled my tea. "You have nausea? Is that why you are drinking ginger tea."

I shrugged.

He patted my hand, stood up and said, "Nap during the day, 30 minutes, and try yoga." He then leaned over my shoulder and whispered in my ear, "….and vitamins, prenatal vitamins."

I sat stone still. Shit, I did have many of the symptoms of a pregnancy: nausea, tired, aversion to food and tender breasts. Now was NOT the time to be pregnant! There was the mission in several weeks. If I were to be "officially" pregnant the whole mission might be scrubbed.

Tank and I planned to start a family after this mission when I was certain to be in country and probably Dix or someplace close for the next year. I purposely did not renew my birth control shot to give my body time to begin normal recycling. Rome. We did use condoms, but obviously they aren't that reliable.

A couple of hours spent researching natural remedies for morning sickness I changed my eating habits, drank far more water, took vitamins at night with a snack and continued to exercise concentrating more on yoga type moves than intense works outs. The symptoms were reduced but food was still difficult to keep down. At least I could concentrate on my work.

Unlike the mission over a year ago, this one went well without any problems. No mass destruction manufacturing sites, no prisons, and thankfully no crashing helicopters. The whole time I was waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop, but nothing major happened. Yes, there were problems that needed immediate rectifying but nothing out of the ordinary. We lost nobody and only injury was a severely sprained ankle, fortunately not mine.

As I exited the helicopter in Herzliya base I grabbed the mission's medic who was the one from the cafeteria weeks early. "Do you have a name of an obstetrician?" It was time to think about me again, not the mission.

He nodded, "How far along?" he asked as his eyes involuntarily dropped to my belly.

"A couple of months," I answered. I hadn't yet bothered to start counting up the weeks.

His eyes grew wide, "Had I know you were that far along…"

"Don't," I quickly interjected. "It was my decision."

The Israeli military obstetrician read her written reports while watching the ultra sound technician search my abdomen. "Yes, that explains it inconsistency," she muttered.

One doesn't want to hear the word inconsistency while being examined. But even I, untrained in reading such mish mash the screen had an idea what the "inconsistency" was. I've cut open enough fruit to be able to see more than one seed capsule.

"Colonel, you are correct, 15 weeks pregnant. However, there isn't one, but two in there, twins. Both heart beats are healthy and development consistent with 15 week maturation."

I wasn't that shocked. I had a bit of a baby bump. "Are they monozygotic or dizygotic." I asked.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Have you been doing research?"

"No, the women on my maternal side tend to be dizygotic. My mother and grandmother were dizygotic twins as was I. My brother died before he reached his first birthday."

She tapped the screen with her pen, "Two embroyic sacs and with family history, I don't feel it a stretch to say dizygotic. As for sex, I would say this is a boy, he's turned properly. This one probably is a girl. I would suggest you wait until later to determine the other. You don't want to be bouncing soundwaves too often off them."

When I entered the doctor's office and sat, she turned from her computer, "Though you have not been under doctor's care you have been taking the prenatal supplements and I can find no signs of defects. However, due to your age, I'd recommend an amniocentesis in 3-4 weeks to rule out genetic disorder. Do you want to schedule that now?"

"No ma'am. I'm being reassigned to the US in a few days."

"Then I highly urge you to immediately get an appointment with obstetrician there," she said. "I'll put it in your medical records."

"Yes ma'am."

After another light chastising, the doctor congratulated me. What I didn't realize how quickly the doctor would post to my records.

A few hours later I was eating dinner in a café when my cell phone chirped. Bobby Brown. Why would Bobby be calling me? Good news? Bad news? Did something happen to Tank?

"Bobby…." I hesitantly answered.

What followed was an ass chewing I haven't received in quite some time. Bobby is pretty even tempered but he was edgy and raw on this call. I was trying to visualize while he spoke' pacing, waving his arms, nothing fit.

I wasn't exactly in a location where I could talk freely to him but did manage to get out, "It wasn't planned. Go ask _him_ if he's been _busting his balloons_ in Rome. That would be the right time. And yes, I knew before this last _trip_ but I wasn't in a position to back out."

"When are you going to tell him?" He barked.

"I just learned a few hours ago, time difference and such…..speaking of which, aren't you in early?"

"Long night, we had a incident, I've had men to tend."

"Who?" I was trying for a distraction.

"Not Tank. Now back to the situation, when are you going to tell him?"

"I'll be home in a few weeks."

"You are 15 weeks pregnant with twins. Be considerate. He'll be looking for missing limbs, limps and bandages, not a waddling wife."

Looking around I had people close by, perhaps listening. I gritted my teeth, "The evidence is minimal plus there's a camouflage covering." I was wondering if my camo uniform is truly hiding the evidence. "If you are so damn concerned, you tell him."

"Hell no, that's your job! What would I say? Your idiot and irresponsible wife just went on a mission knowing she was pregnant with twins?"

"I suspected but not the number." I hissed back. People were watching me.

"He should know. I'm outside his office. You will tell him now, I'll be here in case he has a heart attack."

"I don't have time and I'm in public."

"Make it, Colonel," he snarled.

"Wait, l need to get someplace I can talk freely." I got up from the table, threw more than enough money down grateful the waiter was walking my way. "Any problems ma'am," he asked in Hebrew.

I shook my head no and pointed to the phone. He understood. I walked away.

"There's no reason this can't wait until I get to Washington, Brown," I lobbed back at him.

"Now," he insisted.

"OK you SOB, knock," I snarled. Pregnancy also makes you testy I found out.

I heard him knock followed immediately by Tank growling, "In."

After a few second I heard Tank, "Problem Brown?"

"Phone for you, It's urgent. I'll stay." Bobby remained standing but acknowledged Ranger in the other chair.

"Brown, what's going on? Does it have to do with last night?" Tank asked."

"Just talk on the damn phone," Bobby snapped.

Both men raised their eyebrows, Bobby Brown rarely swore.

"This is Tank," he growled.

"Hi love," I said trying to drain off my anger with Bobby.

"Fro?"

"Pierre….ah, is that SOB Brown there with you?" I quietly forcibly.

"Yes, he's standing here. What's going on? Are you injured, are you ill? Why are you mad at Bobby?"

"No, I'm not ill or injured."

"What is going on? Why are you and Bobby spitting nails?"

"Bobby's there in case you have a heart attack." I sighed.

"I don't understand, why am I going to have a heart attack?"

Ranger thought he knew and looked at Bobby who nodded once and held up two fingers which Tank couldn't see.

Ranger smiled and mouthed "Twins?"

Bobby nodded.

"Love, your Roman balloons failed."

"What Roman balloons?" And then it dawned on him. His eyes got wide.

"You are pregnant?"

Yes, with two.

"Two what?"

Bobby leaned over and slapped the back of Tank's head, "Twins you idiot," he snarled.

Tank stopped breathing for a moment. "You are pregnant with twins? This is no joke?"

"No."

"But you were…you just returned…and you knew?" His voice rose slightly.

"Exactly," Bobby muttered to himself.

"Please, we need to talk when I'm not in public."

"Bobby knew before I did?"

"Only by a few minutes. I'll call you at 1900 your time, we'll talk more. I'm in the open. I love you."

Tank disconnected and looked at Bobby, "Is she really OK?"

"I've read the obstetrician's report. She's fine. Apparently she knew some time ago and started herself on prenatal vitamins; smart and yet risky. Morning sickness was moderate but has lessened; she's lost a few pounds, that concerns me. Once the nausea is past, she'll put it back on quickly. The Israeli obstetrician recommended an amniocentesis to look for genetic defects thinking her age makes her borderline for problems. I'm not sure that's necessary, but not my call."

"How did you find out?"

"Her medical records were updated early this morning. I've been monitoring her."

"What will be her restrictions?" Tank asked with a hint of concern.

"Knowing her, she won't get her to cut back on much. You two will have to stop sparring on the mats, though you might actually win for a change."

Tank chuckled, "Yeah."

Ranger looked at the two of them. He had never seen Frosyni and Tank spar. The men assured him it was intense.

Bobby continued, "It's you I'm worried about. Are you ready to be a father?"

"Hell yes."

"OK, I withdraw the question," Bobby chuckled.

Ranger shook his head, "I think it's time we get serious about the Rangeman nursery."

"Can we keep this quiet for a while until she's back?" Tank asked. "I need to get my head around twins before Lester starts in."

 **Fro POV**

I arrived at McGuire-Dix-Lakeland combined base at 1500. After reporting in I was on my way home by 1600 and heading for bed before 1700. The Israeli obstetrician said to eat often but smaller amounts. Scrambled eggs and toast went down quickly and I crawled into bed. My internal clock had already been reset thanks to 2 weeks in Washington. Now I was just tired. I had left a voice mail for Tank, "I'm home" before I went to sleep.

I woke up in my favorite position, snuggled against Tank's bare chest. I don't remember him coming home and into bed. This time his hand rested on my abdomen. I couldn't see the clock but he was in his silk boxers. He'd been home a while.

He stirred, "Welcome home."

I rolled over on top of him and smiled, "I love homecomings." After a fair amount of lip and mouth exploration his hand moved to my tender breasts. I backed off quickly.

"New rules: Breasts are very tender, proceed with caution, I tire easily and need naps, I eat small meals often, and I'm horny as hell."

He thought for a moment, "I can work within those parameters, especially the last one" he smiled. "Now let's see the baby bump."

When I removed my silk nightgown he ran his hands carefully across my abdomen. Do you know the sex?"

"Didn't Bobby tell you?"

"No, he said it is your job."

"So far, one is a boy, the other is probably a girl but not yet confirmed."

His smile was broad and wide, "Perfect." He then pulled me down and we resumed more personal physical contact…for several hours.

I didn't make it to Rangeman for several weeks so it wasn't until poker night at Tank's was my enlarging belly going to be displayed for the first time. I purposely held back in Tank's study until the guys were engrossed in the game and then casually strolled out wearing a tight knit top and leggings to fully show the bump. I was 18 weeks, the amniocentesis came back clear.

Tank and I had a bet, who would notice first. He said Lester, I said Hector. I won by mile. I was no more than 3 steps into game room when Hector was on his feet, across the room, wrapped his hands around my abdomen, "Niño?" Of course if any of the other guys had done that, Tank would have flattened him.

I shook my head no, " _Tengo gemelos, un niño y una niña._ (I'm having twins, a boy and a girl."

Since everybody there spoke Spanish, suddenly they all knew. Once the commotion died down, Vince asked, "How far along?"

"Eighteen weeks."

Lester was quiet for a while but I knew what he was thinking. "Roman holiday!"

"Sure was," I laughed.

Then Lester's eyes got dark, "That means…."

"No Les, enough people have chewed my ass about it, let it go. Everything is fine."


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

 **The Stork**

 **Efrosyni POV**

Twenty two weeks later…

I'm on maternity leave waiting for the arrival of our twins. Bobby insisted I used a studio apartment at Rangeman while Tank works. The obstetrician and Bobby say "probably in the next three days." Please today, my back hurts; apparently the back exercises weren't enough to prevent this. Mentally I was ready weeks ago to deliver these aliens who were jumping on my bladder, cramping my stomach and kick boxing my intestines.

Work at Dix has been hard. Yes, the computer was reachable and with modification I could write and read at the desk but it was the sitting for long periods, long walks from point A to B. When I needed to see the base commander, he came to me rather than my going to him.

"My wife has had children. I don't want you delivering on Sharp Parade Field."

Actually that didn't sound bad, nice soft grass….

Babies happen, even in the Army now that 13% of the population is female. It is taking time to catch up with women's needs. For example, uniforms have to make allowances for the swelling bellies. While the Army does have pregnancy uniforms, they don't come in my size. Ella and her magic sewing machine and I have been….creative. Out of uniform I dress in knits, they are comfortable, forgiving and very revealing.

Since I returned home from Israel in my second trimester, Tank was spared my indignities of morning sickness. I fought hard to keep it as inconspicuous to others as possible. One pregnancy symptom I haven't been able to hide is the mood changes. Damn hormones. Not only am in horny, which he enjoys, I also cry. I haven't cried since my father's funeral when I was 12 years old. Now I wake up in the middle of the night bawling. The plus side is there's a big massive chest to cry into which ultimately relieves my other hormonal symptom. Twofer?

And there have been the funny sides, getting stuck in the car behind the steer wheel, restaurant booth or kneeling in church. We giggle as I try to stretch or do pregnancy yoga. When we hug, it is not face to face as we can't get close due to the beach ball in the middle. Let's not talk about the constant trip to the bathroom.

000

Here at Rangeman, every morning Bobby begins with a quick exam; blood pressure, temperature, heart: mine and the babies. When I mentioned my back ached this morning he opted for a pelvic exam. For a doctor who has treated men for so long, the pelvics were a bit unsettling for him at first.

"Something's happening, he mutters. You are starting to dilate."

"How long do I have? I ask. I don't give a hoot about centimeters; I want them out of there.

"Maybe tomorrow."

I moan.

"Shorter walks, longer rests; if something doesn't feel right, get in here. I'll send Hector to be with you. "

Stephanie came as soon as I got to my "holding cell." She brought Sam who is pushing 20 months; a walking, babbling offshoot of his father but with the brown curly hair of his mother. She shared the news, she's 6 weeks pregnant and both parents are overjoyed with the thought of a second child. Finally Ranger will be able to experience the whole pregnancy, not just the resulting child.

Stephanie works inside Rangeman, rarely leaving the building. If she does leave it is usually north or east to Newark, Princeton, Point Pleasant, someplace other than Trenton and the Burg. Since her exile to Georgia, marriage and birth, she has transformed from a cute, lovely woman to a self-assured beauty. For a lady who was living hand to mouth for years as a BEA, she found herself helping run Rangeman. Her business sense is greater than either Ranger's or Tank's and Rangeman's expansion is due mostly to her business skills, customer interaction, and spidey sense. Few clients realize Michelle Manoso was formerly Stephanie Plum the Bombastic Bounty Hunter.

As she promised Ranger, she works out daily in the Rangeman gym and updates her self-defense skills. For an adrenaline junkie the workouts keep her mood evened out. They are better for her than the sugar-exploding cars-rolling in garbage life. Originally I was her instructor but as my pregnancy advanced, Bobby put a stop to my teaching. Since Steph is now pregnant again, Bobby will adjust her training schedule over the next few months. We two women are making his job challenging. He says he enjoys working with "different species." We both slugged him when he said that. I'll held back, I didn't want to hurt our doctor.

Stephanie has also become weapons proficient. Initially I got her over her fear and respectively comfortable with a shotgun and handgun. The day Ranger and I took her out with an RPG, after firing it she danced around in merriment. Ram has been honing her skills as I've found the loud recoil from the guns distressed the babies nestled inside of me. Their disapproving kicks were uncomfortable.

0000

A knock on the door indicates Ella is bringing food. I'm not hungry at all. It's hard to be hungry with a child sitting on your stomach, from the inside. Hector was right behind Ella. He's become a "surrogate" midwife, reading and taking classes, but not yet certified. Hector answers my questions saving me from pestering Bobby or the doctor. Since he's not a licensed he defers to the doctors when necessary. I asked my obstetrician if he could be part of the journey, she was unsure when she first met him. Who wouldn't be what with his gang tattoos? After the first meeting and their long discussion, in Spanish, she realized he was serious and already well educated.

My doctor's appointments are like the First Lady and Secret Service; Tank the husband, Bobby the medic; and Hector the midwife all stay close. The obstetrician's staff enjoys the show; Army uniform patient and three intimidating men as companions.

Hector was rubbing my back trying to sooth the ache when he stopped. _"Era una contracción,"_ he said with conviction. (That was a contraction)

I smiled and nodded my head.

"Do you want Bobby?" He whispered in English.

"I've been having them for a while. No hurry. You keep reminding me to be patient."

I was walking, or waddling around the room having contractions. I also wasn't timing them. Hector was; he texted Bobby we were coming early for an exam.

Bobby came into clinic barely dry from a shower in the gym. Snapping on this gloves he said, "Saddle up." I was not in a gracious mood for his cowboy stirrup jokes and snapped back at him. He lifted an eye at me "You must be in labor, your mood stinks."

I wanted to growl but was seized by an impressive contraction. "You'll have to wait before I kick your ass," I said with my index finger raised. Hector held onto one arm and Bobby the other.

Hector whispered how long it had been since the last contraction. Bobby looked uneasy.

After a quick exam, "You trying to set a speed record? You are fully dilated. You are hours ahead of schedule. Were you and Hector planning on having the babies here?"

I was between contractions so could growl and chew him out in German, _Du bist eine unmögliche Ruck_. It's such a guttural language; it feels so good when one is upset.

He shook his head in wonder, "I'm glad I didn't understand most of that. Come on, let's get to the hospital. I'll call the obstetrician." He slipped off his gloves, took out his phone, sent a message. Suddenly I was besieged by people. Tank, Hal, Ram, some of the biggest Rangemen were there to lift me into a wheel chair and down into a waiting SUV.

I wondered where Cal was thinking about two years earlier being lifted in a wheel chair by Hal and Cal .

Somebody chuckled, "Cal doesn't do birthings; he faints."

"Guy's I _need_ to walk," I complained.

"We are not giving Luis more to clean up. I'm surprised your water hasn't broken yet," Bobby said.

I looked at Hector and he smiled, _"Estamos aquí para ayudarle a mamá."_ (We are here to help you mama.)

" _Es el número estoy preocupado._ " I answered. (It is the number I am worried about.)

Everybody chuckled.

As I was helped into the largest SUV I saw towels galore.

"In case the water breaks before we get there," someone said.

"Heaven forbid I destroy the upholstery," I mumbled.

Hal and Bobby were in the front, Tank was next to me. Hector was in the third seat behind me. I began deep breathing then panting while another contraction started. Bobby checked his watch and shook his head, "Can you hold off, giving birth here, it's too crowded."

I considered flicking the finger but instead uttered, "Towels!"

"Breathe," Tank whispered.

"You or me?" I asked.

I made it through check in the private hospital not the gossip centered St. Francis. I was assured by the resident doctor I'd still have hours to go. He didn't bother with an exam. This was after Bobby, Dr. Bobby Brown, had given the dilation time line. Bobby was a trauma doctor, not an obstetrician so his option immediately disregarded by the resident. I guess it didn't matter, I was long past epidural time and no need for a spinal block, I hoped.

"Ass hole," Bobby muttered after the resident doctor was gone. A nearby nurse caught Bobby's eye and nodded in agreement.

Fortunately the two little ones sided with Bobby's assessment. While the obstetrician locked her car in the parking lot Bobby uttered, "We have crowning."

I had watched videos of women giving birth, read pamphlets and had the doctor and Hector explain what would happen. What I wasn't prepared for was the speed. I expected a long siege as the babies were large, nine pounds each the obstetrician said. Instead it was a quick "forward" assault, a rapid deployment.

"Whoa, slow down," Bobby uttered with humor.

"B** S***" I gritted through my teeth.

I had always been able to push aside pain, but this tested my ability. Thankfully my body and muscles wanted the alien invaders out quickly. Two nurses, Bobby and sorta-midwife Hector manned the southern arena; Tank was bouncing back between the actions below and encouraging me above.

First arrival was the boy followed literally on his heels by his sister. The obstetrician arrived in time for the cord cuttings.

"Couldn't wait for me, huh?" she asked.

"It never happens that fast and easy especially for the first time mother with babies this big," a nurse said as she tended one of the newborns.

I wanted to argue the easy part but just went back into my mental cave to tuck that whole experience behind me. I was still having contractions but the big part was over. The first woman who says something about what a joy pregnancy and birth was will get my boot up her ass.

Bobby had a big grin on his face, "That was fun! I haven't done that in a while and never twins." So that's where my endorphin rush went?! I was considering another boot for him. What did he do but catch a slippery baby or two? OK, he's been with me since the call to Israel months ago.

Tank just stared down at the girl in his hands. His expression was one of wonder, love, and fear. Hector had come up to sit near my head, wipe my face and kiss my cheek, "Hiciste bien, mamá." (You did well, Mama.)

I whispered to Hector, " _Recordarle a adolescencia comienza en 13 años."_ (Remind him adolescence begins in 13 years.)

Hector looked up, "Your wife says to remind you adolescence begins in 13 years, bro."

Bobby and Tank froze with their mouths open. Hector spoke English with almost no accent.

" _En Español Hector, recuerde que sólo habla a español,"_ I muttered. (In Spanish Hector, remember you only speak Spanish.)

"Oooops," he said.

We giggled.

"Do you have names?" the nurse asked.

"We are still working on them. We thought about Sampson and Delilah since they were the kittens who introduced us, but there's already a Sam in the family. Instead we are thinking Kassiani and George."

"Kassiani?" the nurse asked.

"It is Mediterranean old world name, the name of a lady saint and a hymnographer. It was my mother's baptism name. There's a hymn especially attributed to her sung during Holy Week: Hymn of Kassiani. I'd sing it for you, but I'm probably not in good voice right now. Google it, it's on the web."

Tank was listening, "You'll be singing it often now and you do it so well." He and Hector traded places and I got a good look at my daughter and Tank his son.

As I held George against my upper body I looked at Tank and gasped, "What have we done?"

"We've started a family."

"Started?" I quizzed. "You think I'm going through that again?"

A nurse nearby chuckled, "God has a way of erasing your mind of the pain, replacing it with the wonder of holding your child for the first time and watching him…..and her, grow." I figured she had been huffing old ether bottles in a storage room.

"Cute little mammals, aren't they?" I asked him.

"Woman," he said exasperatedly, "These are our children."

"…and they aren't very little," Bobby said.

Tank held his daughter against his chest. Even in his massive hands she was sizeable. This was no 6 pound baby, it was….a giant. Of course, I've never done anything small.

Dr. Silias added, "I could only estimate 9 pounds prior to birth, I'm surprised they are 12, but then they are 22 inches plus, almost 23. I don't have patients quite your size."

"No wonder my back hurt when I woke up this morning," I said.

"No, those were contractions," Dr. Silias said.

Once stage three had passed and I could be cleaned up a bit, even taking a quick shower with Tank supporting me and Bobby and Hector minding the nursery, I was more comfortable and could assume a more modest position.

I was no sooner back in bed when George started crying. The nurse suggested he might be hungry. Oh boy. Two of the guys here had already seen my breasts; husband and doctor. The third was gay. What the heck; when you have an objective, move on it. So I offered little George a nipple he took to it like a duck to water. At 12 pounds 2 ounces it took a long time at the filling station. Thankfully "little" Kassi slept. She was just 4 ounces smaller than her brother. Then as George slowed down I passed him to Hector who showed Tank how to burp him while Kassi woke up.

"I hope he didn't drink me dry," I worried. Apparently Mother Nature was bountiful as both got their first feedings of mother's milk. Tank burped his daughter while Bobby held George and I became modest again. I was thinking this was going to take a squad to manage, two people, two babies was going to be tough.

"You have quite a few people out here wanting to say hello. For the next 2 hours it was a continuous parade of people, Ranger and Stephanie were the first. They brought a third person who I didn't recognize at first but Bobby did. Bobby stood up and offered his hand, "Silvio Barela, what a surprise."

Suddenly I remembered the Joyce Barnhardt incident. What was he doing here?

Ranger explained, "Silvio is coming to work for Rangeman. He was in the building when the stork appeared. He wanted to say hello."

He looked at me and suddenly seemed embarrassed probably remembering the "selfie" and my nakedness.

I couldn't help myself, "Don't worry Silvio, they aren't yours."

He looked horrified, Tank and Hector looked confused and Bobby laughed.

"I…..uh….I wanted to stop and say hello and hope you are doing well," he muttered.

I had pity on him, "Thank you Silvio, I'm sure you will be a fine addition to Rangeman."

He nodded and then turned to leave. Bobby and Hector stood, "I believe our work is done here now, we'll leave you to your adorning fans." Turning to Hector he said, "We need to talk….in English."

Oh how I wanted to hear that conversation! Stephanie's eyes were bouncing back and forth trying to figure out what was happening. Ranger just smirked.

As I handed Stephanie baby George, she gasped, "They are so big and long, they look like spiders."

Ranger and Tank exchanged glances. Tank shook his head, another generation, but these two will never be in gangs.

The visitor list was long. I remember Hal and Ram, Lester and Woody, Ella and Luis stopping by and everyone had a chance to hold a baby. By the time Anton and Mari Manoso arrived having returned Sam back to Ranger and Stephanie, Tank and I were tired, but the Dynamic Duo woke up for their next feeding.

Mari laughed, "Welcome to parenthood. That's why I'm moving in with you for a few days to get you started." I was hoping she would move in permanently.

 **Epilogue:**

The Army and I didn't exactly cut the cord. I stayed around until I earned a silver bird, full colonel, and eventually went with the reserves. I may still be called back into active duty and may earn a star, who knows. The rank isn't important anymore; I just tried to honor my father's memory by being a good soldier. If number of ribbons and medals are any indication, I must have done OK. I especially prized the one from Israel. I remembered how I was arrested by the Israelis early in my career for espionage. Later I learned it was a protective cover while my blackmailers were found. Since that time I worked closely with their military and intelligence organization.

By taking one of the Army's reserve options, I have a way to keep my finger on global happenings, be a wife and mother, and run Rangeman's subsidiary Mercorp. This is what I had hinted in Ranger's apartment years before.

Most assume the name is a shortened form of Mercer Corporation. Those who know Latin know "mer" as meaning a part or segment. We tried to add Rangeman, but "Merrange Corp" but it felt like bad spelling for meringue.

Mercorp's function, well, that's secret to the public. Yes, we are an information and intelligence company but that's just the veneer. Our employees are former military; cyber security or heavy into SEALS, Special Forces/Delta/Rangers, multi-lingual. We operate wherever we are needed in the world, preferring to stay away from hot zones. There are other groups for that. But…sometimes….

A small portion of Mercorp's job is to watch for old threats to Carlos and other Rangeman employees. When a blip appears, interception is made, sometimes Ranger is involved.

Mercorp building is behind Rangeman. It was built not to look anything like the Hayward building but built with the most up to date security features to date. It is connected by an underground tunnel to Rangeman. This gives me easy access to the Rangeman nursery and school.

So far Rangeman nursery and school have only four members: two Manosos and two Shermans. Woody and his wife have a baby due any day. It will be fun having an infant in house again. Bobby's wife, Amanda, the trauma doctor, is starting to think it's time to add to the nursery. Hal is engaged to a lovely Scandinavian beauty; we hope for some lovely blonde blue eyed children. Even Lester has been concentrating his efforts on one sassy biologist with the Philadephia zoo. We've run the various jokes into the ground, "Animal tamer, snake charmer, etc."

Carlos and Tank work out daily, sparring and trying to slow down Father Time while trying to stay up with active the children. Steph and Ranger's little girl, Lina, after Abuelita Rosalina, resembles Stephanie and hopefully will be as independent and intelligent as her mother. Sam is a knock off of his father in looks, emotion and fearlessness. Bink and Jason continue to run the child self-defense classes and report little Sam is unusually well coordinated for a child his age. Of course, he's Carlos' child.

In his role of father of three including the older teenager Julie, Carlos has cut back doing apprehensions, concentrating on the security section. In addition to security monitoring and response, Rangeman is designing new security items. Ram is heading up the new Rangeman subsidiary.

The Sherman twins are growing like weeds. Though younger than Sam, they will catch him soon. Tank is an exceptional father, but then I am biased. Fatherhood has brought out a whole new Tank, he laughs, big booming laughs. I'm so happy I could bring this side of him out in the open. Between his teen years and the years in the Army he had repressed his happiness to do his duty. He's learned he can blend both. I admit, I too am laughing more.

Kassi has her father wrapped around her finger. Woe be to any boy who dates her, but then the boy will probably be as tall as Tank as Kassi and her brother will be giants too.

As with Sam years before, the Rangeman men are exceptional with the children. On breaks they often come to the nursery-school to play toy trucks, kick ball or "box" with the kids. Kassi is like her mother, not into girly stuff. She agrees to wear a dress for her father, to church only. Hector is the master storyteller both in Spanish and English, the kids love him and thus are becoming proficient in Spanish.

000

Lula was found temporarily incompetent, attempted manslaughter, and sentenced to 5 years in prison, but served just two and a half before being released on parole and counseling. Amazingly, aside from her years as a prostitute, she had no other run-ins with the law, save speeding tickets.

The senior citizen center where she worked before the shooting wanted her to come back and work for them. The old folks loved Lula, even occupying a portion of the courtroom during her trial.

While incarcerated she studied business and when released, she went to cosmetology school. She now owns a salon-spa, and clothing store catering to the older clients. Surprisingly it is quite popular. Many of her clients are darker skinned and it is now easy to spot them on the streets for their bright colored fashionable clothes, modern hair styles and a certain strut as if to say, "I may have a few years on me, but I've still got "it."

Her project was backed by a wealthy gentleman who is now wooing her to the altar. I have forgiven her and wish her the best, but we won't be exchanging recipes or sipping tea together in the St. Andrew's Tea Room.

Mrs. Plum, Helen, was now full time in a care facility. Dementia has taken her mind. She doesn't recognize Stephanie, barely recognizes Frank or Valerie. Grandma Mazur got to the upscale senior living facility and is as happy as a clam in mud. Though in her 90's now, she seems energized being out from the Burg's grasp or is that the Burg's swamp gas? I stop by to see her every so often and make sure I wear a tight t-shirt and best uplifting bra.

Frank Plum lives alone, spending his days at the lodge and evenings eating his dinner with Valerie, Albert, and the girls who now live next door. The coffee cake baking neighbor passed away.

Ella and Luis are retired, but remain close to the Manosos. They live next door. Carlos and Steph bought the property across from Tank and I, a multi acre home site complete with horse facilities. They tore down everything and built a modern home for themselves but also a house for Ella and Luis. Ella jokes Ranger put her and Luis out to pasture.

Other Rangeman are neighbors. Bobby and his wife Amanda the doctor live down the street. George Halvers retired and lives next door to us, when he's not in Georgia. The property on the other side of George was coming on the market, but never made the listings, Hal bought it. He and his fiancée will make fine neighbors. We laugh about our Rangeman Core Estates, but our greatest fear is Lester will join us. There goes the neighborhood!

The end…..finally.


End file.
